


Good Intentions

by alittlebriton



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Making Up, Minor Character Death, Pining, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-02 19:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebriton/pseuds/alittlebriton
Summary: When Magnus returns from being trapped in Edom by his father, he wants nothing more than to forget he ever met Alec Lightwood. But when a series of murders draw Magnus back into the orbit of the man who so callously ended their relationship, he’s forced to confront both his past heartbreak and his current denial. He had every intention of staying away: from his father, from those annoying Shadowhunters and from love. But he should know better than most what the road to hell is paved with…A canon-divergent fic from 3x18 onwards. This fic is for the Shadowfam. The show might be over, but our fandom will live on.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this when just after 3x17 aired and we got the promo for 3x18. I was happy to see I predicted a few things that made it into the rest of the show, but also happy that I got the chance to write Malec’s overdue argument and explore Magnus taking some agency in his story. As a warning, it’s mentioned that Magnus sleeps with numerous other people while not with Alec. If that’s going to disturb you, then hit the back button now. As always, if you think this doesn’t have a happy ending for Malec, then you’ve never met me.
> 
> Playlist link is here: https://open.spotify.com/user/alittlebriton/playlist/7hPKKCXL6DVsvzXdB5kuyU?si=CgVuf36YRhGmRHfDAu_Nag
> 
> Thank you so so much to Ravelens and Bonibaru for being amazing betas. This fic would not exist in the shape it does if it wasn't for them. The amazing art is by Janusa!!
> 
> I’m alittlebriton on Twitter and I’m following the hashtag #goodfic

When Magnus opens the door, of course it’s Alexander standing there, flanked by two brutes who look like they share one brain cell. 

“Alec,” he says calmly and Alec inclines his head, his eyes hard and focused on the hallway behind Magnus.

“We have reason to believe Curtis Hart is within the premises. We have a warrant for his arrest. May we come in?”

“Oh, by all means,” Magnus says, sweeping his hand obsequiously to beckon the way and sashaying back towards the bedroom, knowing he’s showing off the claw marks on his back. He still has last night’s makeup smudged around his eyes, and he can feel the marks Curt left on his neck throbbing with his elevated pulse. Petty, but he feels it speaks volumes. Warlocks were never meant to be celibate and it would be ludicrous to think that he has been in the nearly three years since he’s seen Alexander.

“Curt, darling? It seems you’ve been a naughty boy.”

Curt pokes his dark head out of the bedroom and blanches when he sees Alec and his goons. They anticipate him bolting and flank him easily, holding his struggling body like it’s a tissue.

“What exactly has he done?” Magnus asks Alec, summoning and swirling his morning martini idly between his fingers.

“Participated in the murder of three vampires and the attempted murder of two Shadowhunters.” 

Magnus shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Curt. I thought you knew how to cover your tracks better than that.”

“Magnus!” Alec bites out, shocked, and Magnus grins at him, sharp.

“Oh hush, I’m teasing. You want him deposited in the Guard?” He twirls his fingers and a portal opens up behind them. Alec nods at his team and they drag a protesting and bewildered-looking Curt with them, but Alec makes no move to join them.

“Was there something else, Shadowhunter?” Magnus finally looks at Alec again, takes in the new frown lines on his forehead, the sliver of grey at his temple.

Alec looks like he’s going to say something, but then his face closes. “No. I apologise for interrupting your morning.”

“This morning is the same as all the others,” Magnus replies lightly, tilting his head to show off his bruises, watching Alec’s face lose colour. “What can I say?”

“As long as you’re happy,” Alec says with a shuddering inhale, turning to go. Magnus frowns, but can’t resist pressing on the wound.

“Of course I am. I have everything I need.” Magnus watches with a sinking triumph as Alec leaves without another word, and then collapses onto his couch, rubbing his hand over his face. Nearly three years and Alec still has the power to reduce him to nothing but the rawest part of him, a heart that only beats for one. It’s not fair, he thinks, his hand clenching into a fist. It’s not fair at all. He should be riding high. He has everything now, everything that can be freely given to him. His magic, men, women, love if he wanted it, the best alcohol money can buy – well, that can be summoned by a click of his fingers. He’s no longer the weak man who begged for Alexander to stay with him, that felt the yawning chasm of nothing open up beneath his feet, ready to accept his fall. He’s not, he knows this, but right now, he’s perilously close to forgetting.  

He raises his head to survey the New York skyline, spread out beneath him, ready and waiting for all his power, and realizes he’s never felt quite so small.

 

It’s different, now. Now that he’s seen Alexander. Now that he knows that Alec knows he’s back. Well, Alec probably knew the moment he stepped foot in New York, Shadowhunter spies everywhere. But now when he puts on his most eye-catching clothing, as he walks through familiar streets, when he orders one more drink in The Hunter’s Moon or slides between two bodies on the dancefloor of Pandemonium, he feels a coil of anticipation low in his stomach, something hard wrapping round his guts. Something hoping to strike.

If it hadn’t been for that morning though, Magnus would have thought Alec a ghost, a figment of his imagination. He’s seen no recognizable faces at the bar, no whisper of arrogant Nephilim activity from Cat nor any word from Lorenzo, even if that old goat would love to rub salt in his wounds. Rey didn’t even reply to the courteous note Magnus sent Lorenzo to let him know he was back in town. Magnus had been expecting something from him – at the very least, some kind of baseless threat about how he was likely colluding with his father to take his position back, or possibly even take over the world. Lorenzo was prone to delusions and exaggeration. But there hadn’t been a peep out of him, and Magnus hears nothing from him, even now.

This irks him, especially when the latest gossip is about Downworlders disappearing. Names he recognizes, a few people talking about how this is how Valentine started. But they can’t be returning to that, not again. For one thing, Clary hasn’t been knocking at his door. He doesn’t care how they dealt with Jonathan. He hadn’t looked back since he’d agreed to stay with his father for two years in return for his magic back. He’d helped his father expel Lilith from Edom and hadn’t made an effort to find out where she’d made her final stand, choosing to spend his energy in defying his father. Closing his ears to the poison he’d dripped into them, day by day, week by week, until the only thing to do was to create his own oasis in the middle of Hell. Left alone with his memories and impotent wrath, burning away until he’d thought it had burnt itself out into some kind of acceptance. That he was only good as Magnus Bane, the famously fun Warlock. Good for power and parties, good for a night or sometimes two. Chewed on and chewed over until it had lodged somewhere behind his ribcage, wriggled its way into his heart like an icicle through the heat of his anger.

He carries it now proudly, like a totem of what he’s been through. A medal of war. Another shiny badge that invites attention and then deflects the eye. He finds it entices people and then ensures they aren’t surprised when he doesn’t want to stay. He uses it indiscriminately when he prowls the floor of his club, luring Seelies in with pretty lies that fall off his tongue as he’s unbuttoning their clothes, seducing werewolves with small signs of his own scars. In the crowds he catches glimpses of runes, stark on skin, and always turns away. He buries himself in others in the knowledge he won’t find himself in them. That he won’t find Alec in them. 

It works and he’s so close to not looking anymore, so close to not scouring every location for messy dark hair and equally dark clothing. So close until he reaches up and plucks a fire message out of the air just as he’s about to turn in for the evening, the first rays of dawn cutting through the Brooklyn air. He frowns, trying to read the handwriting. When he’s deciphered the scrawl, his frown remains, and he’s tempted to crumple the parchment in his fist. But his phone trills as well and he knows it’s Clary before he even reads the text. If both Jace and Clary are reaching out to him – well, it’s probably just more family drama knowing them. Except Jace’s message said nothing about needing his help. Only that there was something Magnus had to see – and he had to come now before the crime scene was destroyed. Magnus can’t ignore that.      

He grabs an energy potion and waits until he feels restored, changes his outfit to something a little more suitable for seeing people he absolutely has no desire to sleep with and summons a portal. He sets his shoulders and walks through to a street in Chinatown. He can hear low murmurs around the corner, can see a small crowd of store owners and delivery boys gathering, and gently nudges them back to what they were doing before they got interested in whatever the hell is going on. He walks through them without hesitation and turns to see familiar black-clad figures clustered around what looks like spilled paint. Only as he gets closer he sees it’s not paint, it’s blood, of course, because why else would they be here. And what he thought might be a mannequin is in fact a person. Used to be a person. Parts of a person. He turns and rolls his lips together, trying not to gag. He hasn’t smelled fresh blood for eight months, not since Edom, and by god he has not missed it.

“Magnus,” Clary says in a low voice and as one, they stop what they are doing and look up at him with varying degrees of hostility and caution.

He watches as Jace, Isabelle and Clary all move instinctively closer to Alec, forming a protective barrier. Though why Alec needs protection from him, he doesn’t know. Alec wasn’t the injured party. Alec was the perpetrator in their little drama and Magnus is steadfastly ignoring his presence. As if he can sense it, Alec turns back and crouches next to… he thinks a leg. Even dismembered body parts are more interesting than he is.

“Scooby gang,” Magnus says in a level voice, ignoring the duel quizzical frowns that appear on Jace and Izzy’s faces. “What is it that’s so desperately important you dragged me from my beauty sleep?”

They look at each other and on some silent sign, Clary moves out of the way and pushes the dumpster that’s next to her away from the wall.

On the grey brick, scrawled in thick, rust-like letters are the words: ‘Magnus was it good for you too?’ The last letters are fresher red – fresher blood.

Magnus’ stomach turns. 

“What?” he asks faintly.

“Kinda what we wanted to know,” Jace says, coming to stand closer and mercifully blocking the sight of his name. Magnus stares through him.

“Magnus,” he says in a kinder tone. “Magnus, we’d like to know if you can identify her.”

“Her?” he echoes, and finally focuses on Jace’s mismatched eyes which hold sympathy, so unexpected Magnus nearly tears up. 

“C’mon,” he takes gently Magnus’ elbow and steers him to a cloth covered object – lump, his mind helpfully supplies, to his disgust. Magnus feels bile rise in his throat.

“Ready?” Jace asks, crouching, and on Magnus nod, draws the cloth back. Unseeing eyes stare at Magnus’ shoes. There’s blood spattered on her face, and she’s missing the rest of her body, but he knows who it is.

He tries to swallow, coughs instead and nods. 

“That’s Adriana Drake. She’s… she was a warlock.”

“Recent conquest?” Izzy asks from behind him, just about managing to keep the sneer from her voice, and Magnus turns thankfully to glower at her, focusing on the spark of irritation instead of the cold creeping sadness that covers him like a new coat.

“Adriana was an old friend,” he says evasively, and when Izzy looks at him, unimpressed, he capitulates. “But yes. We reconnected a couple of months ago.”

Izzy snorts but writes it down. 

“At the moment, our best guess is that someone’s out for revenge of some kind. An ex-lover, maybe. Or a spurned one.” Clary’s voice is gratifyingly free of judgment. “But we can’t work out if they want to hurt you, or if they want… you.”

Magnus frowns and briefly peers at the gruesome scene again. “So this might be less of a warning and more like a gift?!” What a horrifying thought.

“Yes. But we don’t have enough Shadowhunters to put protective detail on all your exes so I guess watching you will have to do.” Jace snaps his notebook shut and offers Magnus a sarcastic smile. 

“Alec’s sorting out the rota now. You’re going to have shadows wherever you go.” 

Magnus’ eyes open wide in alarm at the thought. “Most definitely not. I can handle myself.” The idea of being sucked into Clave business again… he’ll take his chances.

“Tough.” Alec joins them, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His face is impassive and Magnus wonders how much he overheard. “Someone’s targeting you.”

“They could be targeting _you_ ,” Magnus points out. “If they are trying to get to me through the people I…” _love_ is on the tip of his tongue and he clenches his fist to power through it, “...I’ve been with. Well, you’d be their crowning achievement. Wouldn’t you?” He can’t help the bitterness that spills off his tongue.

Alec’s eyes flash darker and a muscle in his jaw twitches as he finally looks at Magnus. He can’t read what’s going on in his head but he can tell Alec is cycling through various responses. Magnus arches an eyebrow, expecting sarcasm, his skin prickling in anticipation of a fight. 

Jace clears his throat and Alec visibly shakes it off. “I’ll make sure my protection detail is increased as well,” Alec finally says, his eyes returning to the horizon like the good soldier he is.

“Alec,” Magnus says, frustration at Alec being his stubborn self edging into his tone. “Be sensible. You’re not going to be _efficient_ if you’re dead.” 

“I think I can manage,” Alec replies drily, and turns to walk away.

“Oh, for.” Magnus throws his hands up in frustration. “At least make sure that… one… Underhill, that’s his name. At least make sure he’s with you.”

Alec’s entire body stiffens, and he turns slowly around, his face white and carved in pain. Magnus’ stomach sinks. He knows what Alec is about to say.

“He died,” Alec says shortly. “Eight months ago.” 

“Eight months ago?” Magnus echoes. Eight months is when he returned to New York. Magnus believes in a lot of things: the restorative power of a good martini, how you should judge someone by how they treat waitstaff, that women’s clothes need more pockets. But he’d never really believed in coincidences.

“I’m sorry. I know he was your friend.”

Alec nods, his movements jerky, his fingers curling and uncurling by his side. For a glorious, delusional moment, Magnus thinks he’s going to step forward to let Magnus comfort him. Instead his face crumbles before he turns away and stalks off towards a nerdy-looking Shadowhunter holding a tablet. Magnus looks at the remaining Nephilim, both Izzy and Jace staring at him challengingly and Clary, as always, smiling softly.

He sighs. “Alright then. What horrors does my protection entail? I have a life you know.”

Izzy’s face splits into a feral smile, so startling and fiercely angry Magnus actually takes a step backwards. “Oh yeah, we know,” she near growls, and runs her hand lovingly over her bracelet. 

Seems like he’s had shadows since returning after all.


	2. Two

When he knocks on Cat’s door, an excited Madzie opens it. “Hey Magnus,” she grins. She’s missing her two front teeth and she’s been using the extra cuteness to full effect. She now whistles when she says her ‘s’s and Magnus has been known to record her speaking for future occasions, like embarrassing her when she decides to date. 

“Hey Sweetpea,” he says and lets her bound into his arms.

“Cat,” he nods at his friend, lying on the sofa still in her scrubs. She looks tired, but that’s also usual for Catarina.

“You’re getting a bit too big for that,” she tells Madzie, who pouts.   

“Never,” Magnus reassures her.

“You’ll regret that soon enough,” Cat smiles. “She’s gone through two new jackets this year alone.”

“Growing big and strong,” Magnus tells Madzie, who giggles and then wriggles out of Magnus’ arms. 

“Mama, can I watch cartoons please?”

“You may,” Cat says with the gravity of a parent bestowing a great gift on their child. Magnus hides a smile and collapses onto the sofa with Cat, who lifts her legs to make way for him and promptly plops them into his lap.

He gives her a look but gets to work rubbing her feet. 

“Oh Lilith, that feels good,” she sighs. “What’s with you? Why do you have that face?”

“What face?”

She gives him a long, assessing look.

“Ah shit, you’ve seen him. I said don’t do it. I said avoid them if you can.” She pushes herself up and glares at him. “He might be beautiful but he’s -”

“Cat,” Magnus cuts her off. “It’s not Alexander.”

“Really? Because you have that ‘I’ve just seen my ex and I want to brood’ look about you. I know it very well.” Cat snaps her fingers and conjures Magnus a glass of bourbon and herself a beer.

“Oh, I have seen him. Twice, in fact. But not for the reasons you think.”

“No? You haven’t decided to flagellate yourself with what you can’t have because a beautiful dickhead broke your heart?” Cat is relentless, and he can’t blame her. Not after Camille.

“No, Cat. I promise to have nothing to do with him like that.” He stomps on the pang of hurt that rises when he promises that.

“Then what is it? You rarely drop by. You have too much of a social life now.” That jibe possibly hurts more. He’s been ignoring quite a few people since he returned. 

“Adriana was murdered.” He’s not gentle with the news, but he’s still solemn. She and Cat were never friends, but there’s still a feeling of family when any one of them dies.

“Shiiiiit,” she draws the word out. “Shadowhunters?”

“No, something worse. Something that literally ripped her apart.” 

Cat sits bolt upright, her eyes widening in alarm, before she looks towards the sounds of cartoon side effects and Madzie’s laughter coming from the other room.

“Tell me,” she demands. Magnus sighs and relays the fire message he received and the scene he joined the night before.

“There was a message for me. ‘Magnus, was it good for you too’,” he recounts with a shudder. “I swear Cat, I have no idea who’s doing this but I’m worried. Whoever attacked Adriana knew we’d been lovers. And I think - some of the Downworlders who’ve disappeared? There’s a couple of names I recognize. Not from before. From recently.”

Cat is silent for a few seconds, chewing her lip. He can tell she’s anxious about what this might mean.

“Oh, Magnus,” she finally says, and covers his hand. “This isn’t your fault. If someone is out to get revenge on you for some slight, it’s still not your fault.” 

Magnus nods without really hearing the words. “The Scooby Gang think that they might be gifts for me.”

Cat’s face distorts into a grimace. “Well that’s not good news.” 

“I don’t want to be courted by a monster. And I don’t see how murdering people I’ve slept with benefits me.”

“Hmmm.” Cat frowns and takes a contemplative sip of her beer. “No, but whoever is doing this may think they are doing it for your own good.”

He shivers and downs his whiskey. “I really don’t need anyone looking out for me in that way. And…” he trails off. 

“Magnus? What is it?” She moves closer to him.

“I’m worried,” he admits, lowering his voice. “I can’t stop myself.” She searches his face for answers and then her expression clears. 

“Alec,” she says. “You’re worried about Alec.” He nods and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I can’t help it, Cat. I may hate him for breaking my heart but I couldn’t bear it if he was… hurt.” It’s such an understatement he nearly laughs, the admittance of his feelings making him feel lightheaded. Or maybe it’s the bourbon.

“I know,” she says after a moment, and her eyes slide to where Madzie is again. Of course. Madzie would be ruined if Alec died. The only time they ever spoke about him before was during a very drunken night, where Magnus has railed and sobbed and shouted about Alec to a very sympathetic Cat. And then she had admitted that Alec still came round to drop off presents for Madzie and to take her out sometimes.

“I want to hate him,” she had promised Magnus, gripping his hands. “I want to hate him so much for what he did to you. That selfish, lying, fragile boy. But he’s so good with her. He loves her. And he shows nothing but respect to me, no matter how badly I treat him. I sometimes think - it’s almost… almost like he’s punishing himself.” 

“Good,” Magnus had spat, choosing anger over the wave of warmth that threatened to overtake him. He’d been raw and unforgiving in his fury, cold in his delight at his friend’s treatment of the man he’d loved. 

He shakes himself back into the present and pushes a residual guilt away. 

“I don’t know what to do, Cat,” he admits, and then gives in and lays his head on her lap, feeling her cool long fingers start to stroke through his hair.

“I can’t lose him like that. Not because of me. Because of who I am.” 

“You won’t,” Cat says fiercely. “Don’t you dare alter your life. Not for some psycho. Alec has the whole Institute to protect him. And they will. Shadowhunters always protect their own.”

Magnus nods and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Promise me,” she asks. “Promise that you won’t stop being Magnus Bane because someone wants to hurt you.”

“I promise,” he says in a shaky voice, and turns his head to look up at her. “But you have to protect yourself and Madzie too. If they don’t catch this person soon, I want you to leave the city.” 

Her face is a picture. “Unless I missed something on a night we got _very_ drunk, I don’t think you and I have ever fallen into bed together.”  

Magnus barks out laughter and grabs her hand. “No, my old friend. But if they are trying to hurt people I love - well, there’s few I love more than you and Sweetpea.” 

Catarina holds his gaze and nods, reluctantly. “If it gets worse. I promise to take Madzie away.” 

“Good,” he breathes and turns back. “Now keep petting my hair, I liked that.”

He can feel Catarina shake with fond laughter as she resumes.

 

True to his promise, Magnus doesn’t alter his lifestyle one bit. Except now his lifestyle contains two conspicuous teenagers dressed head to toe in leather who trail after him wherever he goes. He looks like he’s training two dominants, he thinks, and laughs to himself as he drags them from shop to bar to club and back home. Every so often he puts some effort in and loses them completely, ducking into a little-known shortcut or leaving by the backdoor of a suspect emporium, clutching his potion ingredients. From time to time he indulges in what he fondly thinks of as raucous bacchanalia, grinding against people on the dancefloor, making his protectors watch as he sucks men into his throat in dark corners of Pandemonium, makes them listen as he brings women off in the gleaming marble restrooms. Less often now, and he casts a protection charm on each one before he leaves them. After a while the exhibitionism becomes boring and he dodges his bodyguards more and more easily, putting up with them only for a few minutes before portalling somewhere completely different and then grinning at how annoyed Alec will be when he gets yet another report that states they lost him. Again. And again.

His suspicions are confirmed when he exits his apartment one night to find Jace lounging, bold as brass, against the brick of the building. He huffs as Jace raises an eyebrow and detaches himself with a louche grace that would be impressive if Alec hadn’t told him once that Jace practices his poses in his room in front of a mirror.

“Hey, if you’re gonna be an asshole, you’re gonna be a safe asshole,” Jace tells him. Magnus rolls his eyes and relents, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You draw the short straw? Or did you just piss Alec off?” 

“What makes you think I didn’t volunteer,” Jace says, falling into step next to him as Magnus makes his way down the street. “I’m all settled down now. You’re my excuse to see the inside of a club again.” 

“I doubt that very much,” he scoffs.

“Naw, I’m serious. Clary and I are getting married.”

Magnus looks at him sharply, an unexpected smile stealing across his face before he can stop it.

“Congratulations. Don’t tell me: you proposed after you managed to kill an evil aunt of hers that sprang up. Or was it after she’d been possessed and nearly killed you for what must be the third time?” He gestures wearily to emphasize how often these dramatic things happen to the pair of them. “There must have been some life and death epic battle going on around you, at least.”

“Ha ha,” Jace responds, looking affronted. “If you must know, it was very romantic. Mostly because I asked Alec to help. There was a balcony overlooking the river, candlelight, champagne, rose petals, all that tacky shit.”

Magnus grimaces to himself at Jace’s phrasing before his words actually sink in, tugging at his memory. He buys enough time to compose himself by crossing the street, focusing on not being run over instead of the image of a table, lit by candles, strewn with flowers, the New York skyline behind the breathtaking image of Alec, that hopeful look on his face before Magnus opened his mouth.  He wasn’t… no, that was a stupid thing to think. Clearly he hadn’t, because the next day he ended it.

“Anyway, Clary seemed to like it,” Jace continues, oblivious to the torment Magnus is trying to tamp down. “She said yes, we got drunk, and then Simon and Izzy threw us a party.” 

“Sounds lovely,” he says in an absent voice, then forces himself out of his wallow. “So now you no longer have any fun, all tucked into bed before nine and choosing curtains?” 

Jace gives him a shrewd look. “Careful, now. That sounded a little too much like jealousy.” The well-aimed barb takes him by surprise, stealing away his breath, and for a second he’s plunged into a despair he thought long walled off.

“Life has a funny way of working out,” is what he eventually manages to say, wanting to claw the words from his throat.

“I’ve heard that before.”

They make it half a block before Magnus gives in and turns to Jace, stopping him with a light hand to his chest. Jace looks down and then looks at Magnus, confused.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Just did,” Jace deflects and then rolls his eyes. “Depends on what it is. Some things aren’t my place to tell you.”

He could put a truth spell on the irritating angel-kin right now and no one would now. He suppresses that surprisingly sharp desire, and breathes for a moment.

“Why are you being so kind to me? Guilt? But then Izzy is clearly angry with me, for no reason, I might add.” 

Jace shrugs. “Izzy believes in ideals. She thinks true love is enough and will conquer everything. I love her, I’ve seen her go through heartbreak – but she’s never had to fight for something. Risk her life for someone. Me, I reckon forgiveness is the key. My father – Valentine – taught me that to love is to destroy. But he was wrong. Love is about acceptance and fighting through hell to make sure the person you care about most is by your side.”

Magnus looks at him, reappraising him. This boy has seen a lot in his short life, been through too many trials to make sure he kept Clary close to him, even when she had no other champion, even when she was the one he was fighting. He pauses, wondering if he should ask the next question. Jace notices. 

“Ask it. Go on, why stop now when we’re bonding?”

He glowers at him. “What does Alec think love is? If he even believes in love at all.” 

Jace holds his gaze. “Sacrifice,” he says simply. “Alec would tear his own heart out if it would make someone else happy.”

Once again, he’s suddenly, irrationally, angry at the one person who he can’t talk to. “That just leaves one person dead and the other alone,” he spits out.

“Maybe,” Jace shrugs. “But love makes us all stupid.”

“It makes fools of us all,” Magnus agrees darkly, thinking about how he trusted Alec. How he had faith in him when he had nothing else. And how it turned out that that faith was based on something as flimsy and ephemeral as most Nephilim promises were.   

“Alec would say it brings out the best in us.”

“I don’t give a _shit_ what Alec would say,” Magnus snarls, tired of this conversation, tired of feeling the way he does. “I’m not in the mood, now. Maybe I’ll pay Cat a visit. I doubt anyone will attack two warlocks so you’re dismissed, Shadowhunter. Go home to your loving fiancée.”

Jace remains impassive during his outburst.

“Clary will want you at the wedding, you know.” 

“She will be the only one,” he says firmly and turns away. “Go home.” Home to where someone was waiting for Jace, would hold their arms open and welcome him into them. People think love is the grand sweeping gesture but really, it’s the smaller moments of happiness that are the most precious, reassuring and perfect in their banality.

What he needs now is Cat and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. But of course, the universe has a different plan.

“Hang on,” Jace says, pulling out his phone as it chirps, frowning at the screen. He looks up at Magnus. “There’s been another one.”

“Of course there has,” Magnus sighs. “I guess I have to suffer your presence a little longer.”

 

The Institute is a hive of activity when they arrive. Magnus’ eyes are drawn to the bowed, dark heads of the Lightwood siblings, deep in conversation. Izzy’s clearly trying to explain something visceral because Alec has his ‘this disgusts me but I’m suffering through it’ face that only Izzy’s glee at dead bodies can produce. No one looks at Magnus and, for a moment, he is lost in time to a different life. He blinks out of it and moves to where Clary is pouring over a map of the city, bright red spots blinking in front of her.

“Are these all Downworld murders?” he asks in a low voice and she starts, turning to him with a smile.

“Magnus,” she says. “Yes. Well, some are attacks on Shadowhunters. But we’ve seen an increase in deaths, violent ones. Some we’ve solved. But we can’t find what’s connecting the rest.”

The Shadowhunters are unlikely to be part of this, then. He’s not normally averse to one night with a Nephilim, but the thought of an unfamiliar rune pattern on an unfamiliar body… it turns his stomach. And while he hasn’t been hiding his proclivities from Alec, taking one of his team to bed feels like a line he shouldn’t cross, even if he wanted to.

There’s a cluster of red dots near Pandemonium on the screen and he points to it. “This has been what’s making my customers nervous.” 

“With good reason,” comes Alec’s voice from behind him and Magnus tenses, his fingers curling on the table. “Whoever is doing this is taking pleasure in it.” 

“Adriana wasn’t an anomaly?” he asks, not looking at Alec.

“No. That was almost tame in comparison.” Alec pauses and Magnus can feel him judge what to say. “I’m sorry.” 

Magnus waves his hand. “Let’s save the commiserations and stick to why I’m here.”

He hears Alec sigh and then he moves to the table, leaning over to drag his finger over the screen, opening up another folder. Calmly, one by one he opens photo after photo, faces appearing before Magnus, until there are nine laid out, Adriana included. Every new one makes him paler. He stares at them in turn, the thud of his heart getting louder in his ears. He finally drags his gaze away and meets Alec’s eyes. It’s so hard to see the acceptance that’s in them. Alec already knows what he’s going to say.

“Yes,” he nods, his voice breaking. “All of them.” 

Alec’s mouth twists and he looks down, stretching his arms out and hanging his head for a moment to absorb what Magnus has just confirmed before thumping the table with his fist.

“Fuck. I knew it. I knew there was a pattern that we just couldn’t see.”

Magnus feels sick. He’s the link. All these people dead, because of him. And he doesn’t know why.

“We thought it was Pandemonium but at least three of them had never stepped foot in it.”

“I get around,” he whispers bitterly, and feels Clary’s hand on his elbow. It’s meant to soothe but it just grates on him. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Who did you find tonight?”

Izzy taps on her tablet and Gregory’s face appears above a blinking red dot located in midtown. Makes sense. Gregory is – was an actor. A good one. 

“Did he… did he suffer?” Even Izzy looks at him with sympathy.

“I…” she trails off and looks up at her brother for guidance. Alec twitches an eyebrow at her and she turns back to him, taking a deep breath.

“We think he was held and tortured for a while with silver before they made him swallow it.” So yes, then. That wasn’t a quick death for a werewolf.

“Does Maia know?” he asks, suddenly thinking of the New York Pack. Alec shoots him a sharp glance. 

“I called her immediately,” Alec says. “She’s demanding a resolution sooner rather than later. She’s not very happy with our progress since the second one.”

“Well, now at least you can tell her something,” Magnus says, feeling the familiar curls of anger flicking at his temple.

“Someone out there really wants your attention, Magnus.” Clary looks frightened on his behalf. He rips his gaze from Alec’s weary face and raises both eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Well, they’ve got it.”

“No,” Alec interrupts, capturing his gaze again. He sets his jaw determinedly. “That’s what they want. We need to be very smart. Don’t alter anything you’re doing.” He’s looking at him so sincerely that Magnus irrationally wants to lash out, wants to wipe it from his face. Alexander gave up the right to look at him like he cares a long time ago.

“Or who I’m doing?” Magnus inquires innocently and Alec blinks at him, eyes widening in pain, takes a measured breath and then catches Izzy’s wrist as she moves towards Magnus.

“No, Iz. I deserve it.” 

“No you don’t,” she hisses, tears welling up in her eyes. “Neither of you do.” Magnus frowns at her words. He’d very much like to argue that Alec most definitely deserves that and more, but it’s unlike Izzy to get visibly emotional when it’s not anger. It’s unexpected, and would normally be categorized as intriguing. Right now, it feels downright infuriating.

She and Alec look at each other, communicating without saying a single word for a few moments in the way only siblings really can, and then Izzy huffs in frustration and leaves the room, her heeled boots clacking angrily on the floor. Magnus stares at Alec, silently asking for an explanation. 

Alec looks at him tiredly. “Do what you want. Who you want. Like I said, if it makes you happy.” He follows Izzy out of the room.

Magnus looks back at the people he’s loved, even for a night, half a night. “None of this makes me happy,” he murmurs.

 

He gives Clary and Jace what information he can on all of them. He’s ashamed how little he knows. Actually getting to know them hadn’t been the point of most of their encounters. He tries not to enquire too much about how they died but some things he’s not able to unsee. He has a strong feeling sleep will not be his friend tonight without a lot of bourbon. As soon as he’s able, he takes his leave and wanders slowly through the corridors of the Institute, oddly calmed by its stoic solidity. People die, new ones are born, Shadowhunters live their brief, violent lives within its walls and yet it stands, a symbol of oppression for so many and a home for others. In all likelihood, it will outlast even him. He doesn’t know if that makes him happy or not.

He finds himself in the corridor by Alexander’s office and draws closer when he hears raised voices. Eavesdropping isn’t the most dignified of activities but he’s nosy, and can probably be forgiven for not making smart decisions given that he’s just been told he’s the reason Downworlders are being slaughtered in his city.

“You could just tell him, you know. He might forgive you.”

Alec snorts. “And hell might freeze over. Anyway, you know I can’t.”

He hears Izzy sigh. “Then you have to be strong. I’m so sorry, Alec.”

“Maybe I should just take that job in Idris. Leave the Institute to Jace and Clary.” Magnus goes cold, and then tries to shake his body out of it. He shouldn’t be having that reaction to Alexander leaving. He should be glad to see the back of him. Glad they won’t have to awkwardly bump into each other anymore, interact like strangers who once shared a life. 

“Oh, please, we’d never survive. Besides, Maia and Lily would punch you just for suggesting it. Although they would run circles around Jace, so maybe they’d throw you a wicked goodbye party.” Izzy’s teasing voice is so full of love for her brother it makes his chest ache. He hears Alec’s answering chuckle and then-

“Ahem.” The gaunt nerdy Shadowhunter with the glasses is stood next to him, looking disapproving. A thin scar slices down across the entirety of her face and through her mouth. She gives him another dirty look before pushing past him and knocking on Alec’s door. Magnus swings away and presses himself around the corner, coming face to face with Jace, looking smugly amused with his arms crossed.

“Hear anything juicy?” 

“Oh, do fuck off,” Magnus says, once his heart has calmed down. “Who the hell is that new girl?” 

“Emilia? She’s not new. Oh, well, maybe to you. She’s sweet. A little scaredy-cat, really, but you can’t blame her. She nearly died a year ago. She doesn’t go on patrol anymore – she’s basically Alec’s assistant.” Jace begins to grin. “We all think she has a little crush.”

“Did she not get the memo?” Alec wasn’t waving a rainbow flag from the rooftop but Magnus can’t imagine he’d dive back into the closet again.

“Well, it’s not like he’s Mr. Lover Boy.”   

“Why not? He’s single, young. Head of the Institute. I’m surprised mothers aren’t throwing their sons at him with bows on.” Sue him if he sounds a little bitter. But Alec made it clear he would prefer a steady Shadowhunter to a tapped out, near-alcoholic Downworlder. He might have had a soft spot for powerful, dashing Warlocks, but as Marilyn said, ‘if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best’. Better Alec takes up with someone dependable. Boring. Mortal.

Jace gives him the most unimpressed look he’s ever given Magnus, which is quite a feat. Oh. Maybe he _had_ found someone mortal. Magnus feels a pang of remorse.

“Don’t tell me. He and Underhill. And now he’s grieving.”

Jace frowns and then his face becomes horrified once he grasps Magnus’ meaning. “What? Raziel, no. They were friends, that’s all. I mean, Alec feels responsible –“

“Of course he does,” Magnus interjects.

“But no. Alec’s a closed book and it’s only gotten worse.”

“Since I’ve come back,” Magnus guesses, and Jace nods.

“There’s a reason, beyond the obvious. He won’t tell me what it is. But since Underhill died… it’s been worse for him. And he won’t let anyone help him.” Jace looks at him, his face sad, and reaches out to squeeze Magnus’ shoulder briefly before leaving.

Of course not. There’s no responsibility too great that Alec won’t try to bear alone. Magnus used to think that was the most selfish thing about him. Until that night in Ouroboros when Alec realized he’d become too pathetic a burden for even Alec to put up with.

 

He weighs up whether or not to investigate the incident with Underhill over drinks later at the Hunters Moon, calming his shaking hands with a martini. He would have asked Izzy about it but her fury at his living a single life - like he was the one that broke Alec’s heart - was a minefield he didn’t want to step into. Which means he has few resources at his disposal. He decides on the unexpected one - really, everything he does is going to get back to Alexander, so why not attack from the blindside?

The bell over the door of Ouroboros jingles jauntily when Magnus enters and he immediately hates it. Thankfully, the bookshop is empty except for a dark head bent over a laptop. Magnus can hear the curses from the doorway.

“We’re closed, sorry-“ Maryse breaks off when she looks up and recognizes him, her face warring between hope, sadness and caution in a way that’s utterly fascinating. He watches as she squares her shoulders and composes herself, her face closing off into a polite mask. 

“Magnus. This is a surprise.”

“For us both,” he acknowledges. He doesn’t exactly have the best memories of this place. The smell of it is making him itch, just underneath his skin.

“I take it this isn’t a social call.” She rises gracefully and steps out from behind the desk, leaning against it with her arms curled protectively around her. “Is there a tome or scroll I can hunt down for you?”

He shakes his head. “No, Maryse. I wanted to ask you about the night Underhill died.”

Her face transforms with grief, her eyes softening.

“Oh, poor Andrew. That was terrible. He was so young. So brave. And Alec spent nearly a week in the infirmary so we couldn’t discover what happened. He couldn’t even be there for the funeral.”

He starts. “Alexander was there?”

“You didn’t know? There was a demon attack. They were waiting for them as they walked back from the Hunters Moon one night. It was unusual – Alec said there was the strangest mix of demons, ones that normally don’t cross paths. They surrounded them. Alec barely escaped with his life. It was so bad they even let me back into the Institute to be with him.” Even now, her voice only held anxiety for her children and not anger at The Clave for implementing that stupid rule to start with. 

“Poor Andrew. He was protecting Alec. They’d grown so close, shared so much.” Magnus tries not to bristle and bites his tongue, gesturing for her to continue.

“Alec said he pushed him out of the way when the Wraith Demon circled back for its final attack. Alec was burnt on one side and his hand still isn’t right. But Andrew...” she trails off sorrowfully, lost in her own thoughts, unaware that Magnus can no longer breathe properly. Wraith Demons. What were Edomai doing back in New York?

“Andrew was gone. The only blessing was that Alec could tell Lorenzo that it was instantaneous.”

Magnus blinks. “I’m sorry, I think I hallucinated for a moment. What?”

Maryse jerks, focusing on him as if remembering she’s speaking to someone and not lost in her own reverie. 

“Oh! I forget. You haven’t… you were away for so much. Alec introduced them. Andrew… softened Lorenzo. And Lorenzo made Andrew laugh. Such an odd couple, but they worked. They worked so well. Oh, they had their arguments, of course, but more often than not, Alec mediated. Andrew had only just moved in with him the month before - oh, into your old apartment, I suppose. How odd to think of it like that.” She shakes herself out of it.

“Anyway, horrible business. They never could find out what the demons wanted or why they attacked Alec and Andrew. And we were so thankful that Alec was alive and healing that the investigation just got put to one side. We chalked it up to a random attack. Why did you want to know about it?”

He realizes he’s staring at her with his mouth slightly open, his fingers gripping the edges of his jacket tightly. “What night was this? The date?”

Maryse frowns. “The date? I’m not...”

“Be sure,” he interrupts her.

She gives him a stern look and turns back to a book on her desk, flicking through the pages. “November 4th,” she says. “I’m sure of it.” Maryse looks back up at him. “Why? What is it, Magnus?”

He shakes his head, trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts bombarding him. The day after he left Edom. He doubts he let anything through the rift with him - he can’t be sure, of course, but he’s normally careful, especially when leaving a hell dimension, and he feels he would have felt a full grown Edomai pushing its way out of the rift with him. Which means someone sent one, on purpose. And it made a beeline for Alexander. There’s only one person he can think of that holds so much hate for what should be an insignificant Nephilim. But… 

“I think Alec’s in danger,” he tells Maryse, watching her face blanch. “The only problem is, it’s impossible for the person I suspect to be behind these murders.”

“Why?”

“Because I left my father locked in Edom,” he tells her grimly. “Which means I have no idea who’s physically doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter had no Cat and it was really missing a slice of lightness and what Magnus is truly feeling. I'm super happy I changed it.
> 
> As always, I'm following #goodfic for your thoughts on what's going on and how long it's going to take before Magnus gets the truth!


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter earns its Explicit rating, FYI.

Sleep is an absent friend that night, Magnus only finding rest when the weak light of dawn curls under the curtains. When he wakes he procrastinates until he tells himself to just go do what he knows he needs to do. He procrastinates so long that he manages a nice dinner before he makes his way to the large wooden doors of Lorenzo’s mansion and knocks. The door swings open to an empty hallway.

“Lorenzo?” Magnus calls, and walks cautiously down the hall to his spacious living room. The velvet curtains are closed and lamps cast everything in a dull gold glow.

“Magnus Bane.” Lorenzo stands before his drinks cabinet, a half-filled glass in hand. “Care for an aperitif?”

“Please.” He watches Lorenzo as he makes the drink, taking in the long brocade coat. He’s gotten thinner, paler like he doesn’t get outside in the sun that much.

“To what do I owe this visit?” He doesn’t even pretend to call it a pleasure, Magnus notes.

“I recently learned that condolences are long overdue.”

Lorenzo pauses before picking up the glass and swinging round to face Magnus, handing it over.

“Ah. I wondered when you’d cease your one-man mission to catch demon pox to pay attention to what’s going on around you.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Why don’t we take it as read that you’re disapproving throughout this conversation?”

“Very well.” Lorenzo sighs and drapes himself elegantly onto a Louis XVI chair that Magnus knows Lorenzo stole from Versailles. It’s just as tacky now as it was then. He’d never grown any taste.

“Then I offer my thanks for your condolences. Have you come to tell me that Adriana has been murdered? I know she was an old friend and a recent conquest. I do get the latest gossip, you know. Or have you turned up with the weight of Edom behind you to take back your position? I must say I expected more fireworks.”

Magnus blinks and sits down on the couch. “No, Lorenzo. I only came here to tell you how terribly sorry I was to hear of Underhill’s passing. To tell the truth, I went to the loft first. I thought you would be there.”

Lorenzo sniffs and takes a long drink. “Too many memories,” he says in a quiet voice and looks Magnus in the eye. His gaze is raw and full of grief and Magnus has too much respect to look away. 

“You can have it back if you want.”

“Too many memories,” Magnus echoes, with a rueful smile.

“Ah, yes. I’ve had the pleasure of spending a lot more time with Mr. Lightwood. He’s quite charming when you get to know him.”

Magnus snorts. “You must have had a lot to talk about. I suppose he told you all about how he couldn’t bear to look at me any longer once you took your magic back.” 

Lorenzo’s eyes harden. “I know you think that you’re the topic of conversation in every room you are or aren’t in, Bane, but no. He never mentioned you. The only time he’s ever spoken to me about you was when he came to me, crying, to beg for your life.”

Magnus gawks at him, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “He did _what_?”

“You didn’t know?” Lorenzo looks confused. “You think Ms. Loss contacted me that day? No, she knew you would never want to sink so low as to ask me for help. But your boyfriend couldn’t care less about your pride. He just wanted you to live.” 

Magnus clutches his glass hard, trying to stamp on the conflicting feelings of humiliation and gratitude. “Well,” he attempts flippancy, “while he might not admit it, Alec always had a flair for the dramatic.”

Lorenzo snorts. “I wonder where he learned that from.”

“I’m sure Andrew learned a few things from you as well. The last time I spoke to him it was about protocol. I can’t imagine he didn’t relax somewhat, dating a Downworlder.” 

Lorenzo’s face transforms into something that even Magnus has to begrudgingly admit is handsome when he smiles, wide and genuine. “He was wonderful. Conventional, traditional and yet utterly full of surprises. He loved puzzles. He used to hide small gifts for me in the loft and leave me clues as to where they were. I lost entire days sometimes to his cryptic games.”

Magnus looks down at his drink to escape the wistful, bittersweet tone of Lorenzo’s voice and smiles ruefully to himself, wishing Rey’s story had a happier ending.

“I asked him to move in because I couldn’t imagine my world without him. And less than two weeks later, he was gone. The universe has its reasons, and I’ve lived through loss before. But nothing cuts quite as deep as the loss of something new.”

“Something with so much potential,” Magnus supplies.

“Exactly.” Lorenzo sighs. “I don’t think you expected to find me brought so low by a mortal, did you? After all that I said to you.” It’s a challenge and one that Magnus has no intention of rising to.

Magnus waves his hand and gulps his drink. “That’s in the past.” Lorenzo hums, clearly disagreeing with Magnus’ assessment.

“Your Alexander hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since it happened.” 

“He’s not my Alexander,” Magnus replies automatically. “And you can’t think he had anything to do with Andrew’s death?”

Lorenzo fixes him with a piercingly scornful look. “You’re an idiot if you truly think that. He’ll always be yours. Even if you don’t deserve him. And no, of course not. But he’s hiding something. Of course, it just might be guilt - the only reason Andrew was with him that night was because he wanted a drinking partner to deal with the fact that _you_ had come back.”

He flinches. Of course this would in some way be connected to him in Lorenzo’s mind. Well, if he was to be the whipping boy instead of fate dealing Lorenzo a shitty hand, then so be it. Everyone wished they could battle something when it came to death.

“News always did travel fast.”

“It does if you’ve been waiting for it.”

Magnus’ head shoots up and he narrows his eyes at Lorenzo. “No one was waiting for me,” he says with conviction.

“No?” Lorenzo raises his eyebrows and takes another sip of his drink. “Has he asked you how you got your powers back?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

“Not really,’ Magnus says, beginning to be irritated. He wasn’t going to be lectured on his… spectacular ruin of a love life by Lorenzo Rey, even if the man had found his heart. “It’s not like we’re having long conversations over dinner.”

“You should.” Lorenzo leans forward and Magnus inhales sharply at the intensity in his face. “I used to think you were such a fool, running after your mortal Nephilim lover. I told you that’s why you made a terrible High Warlock. You were too involved with _them_. I was mistaken in that and I apologise. But if you love him, you should find a way to hold him for the rest of his life and tell the rest of the Downworld to go hang.” Lorenzo is so vehement Magnus is speechless, gaping at him for a good few silent seconds.

“I _was_ a fool,” he finally says, feeling his chest expand with too many warring emotions. “I opened myself to love and gained only heartbreak and a devastating loss of dignity.”

“Aren’t you lucky,” Lorenzo says softly, his face weathered with a quiet grief. “I gained a white shroud and an invitation to the mausoleum in the Silent City whenever I so wish.”

Magnus stops, stricken. “Lorenzo, I-“ 

“I was there, in the aftermath. He was dead when I reached him, of course, but Alec was breathing. Just. I shouldn’t have wasted my energy on Andrew, I should have started to heal Alec, but. You aren’t quite yourself when you have to comprehend true loss.” He attempts a smile but it’s quick and bitter. “The last thing I said to him was I love you, so I never regretted that, just the years we could have had.”

He turns his gaze to Magnus, a pitying, knowing look in his eye. “What are you going to regret, Bane?”

 

Magnus slowly makes his way back from Lorenzo’s mansion, still mulling over his question. His immortal life was far too long for regrets. There were, of course, things he wished he’d done differently, people he wished he’d spent more time with, or less time with. But if you kept counting regrets you spent your life in the past.

But the look in Lorenzo’s eye when he spoke about what he’d been left with… that was going to stay with Magnus for a while.

As he leaves the mostly residential area that Lorenzo hid his mansion in, he becomes aware of two things: he has the omni-present shadows back, two women who are following him discreetly from a distance, and that he is very, very on edge. The constant surveillance is making him feel the way he had when he’d given up his powers: lonely and vulnerable. What he probably needs, he decides, is another drink. He casts a small glamour behind him that makes it look as if he’s continuing down the street ahead and instead turns left, towards the Hunter’s Moon. It’s only a few blocks away and it’s a beautiful evening, so he will be able to enjoy his walk in peace. Just him and his thoughts. He frowns. On second thought, maybe he should just go home and get drunk until he passes out. He stills on the corner, debating the choice, and something scratches at the back of his mind.

His frown deepens. He makes a right turn and concentrates as he walks, forcing the noise of the city to the background, ignoring the sound of his own shoes on the sidewalk. There’s the faintest steady noise from above him, a regular crunch on the roofs of the buildings as he walks down the street. When he stops again on the corner, it stops. That’s what he had noticed: the absence of that sound. He sighs.

“I give you credit for perseverance. But stop flitting across rooftops. You’re not Batman.” There’s a noise like a cut off huff, and then a figure drops to a fire escape, pirouettes across to hang from a store sign and then somersaults into a graceful landing a few feet away from Magnus. Show-off.

“If you’d stop dodging your bodyguards I wouldn’t have to,” Alec tells him, shouldering his bow. “And who’s Batman?”

Magnus stares at him, about to open his mouth to fruitlessly explain, before Alec’s mouth twitches.

“Funny,” Magnus tells him.

“For some reason Izzy is still dating Simon,” Alec says. “And that means I know a lot more about comic books that I ever wanted to.”

Magnus can’t help the smile that crosses his face. He always found Alec’s impatience for anything to do with Simon amusing. “Simon isn’t that bad.”

“My sister now owns a ‘Han Shot First’ t-shirt,” Alec says, his expression so baffled that Magnus breaks into helpless laughter.

“I don’t even know why that’s a good thing,” Alec continues to complain, and Magnus laughs harder. “And I really don’t have time to listen to Simon’s explanation.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a very busy man. Too busy stalking people from above.”

“You should be taking your safety seriously,” he chastises Magnus and falls into step with him, his mouth still quirking at the corners in a way that pleases Magnus whenever he catches it. He’d not let himself remember Alec like this; too dangerous to think about how funny he could be, how full of joy.

“I would take it seriously if it was serious. But I don’t think I’m the target, Alec. I really don’t.” 

“Why not?” Alec’s voice is even, but Magnus knows that tone. It’s the tone Alec uses when he thinks you’re being an idiot but he wants you to give your argument anyway so he can counter every point. He goes for the throat.

“I don’t think the attack on you and Underhill was random.”

Alec jerks to a stop and turns to him wide-eyed, searching his face until he sees – or doesn’t see - something there. His gaze shutters.

“No, I know it wasn’t,” Alec confirms and Magnus stares at him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Many, many things,” Alec says, rolling his mouth together in an approximation of an apology before turning away and starting to walk again, and Magnus’ blood begins to heat up.

“You know you’re in danger and yet you’re roaming around by yourself?”  Of all the stupid things…

“How was Lorenzo?” Alec asks, his shoulders set. Oh. That’s why he’s tempting fate by himself. Because the last time someone else got hurt. Sometimes he thought Alec’s martyr complex could power Manhattan.

“He thinks you blame yourself. I think he’d rather blame me somehow.” Alec stiffens at that but keeps walking.

“He’s not wrong, though, is he?” Magnus continues, eyeing the way Alec’s hand flexes and clenches by his side.

“About which part?”

“That you went out that night because you heard I’d returned. Did you really think I’d make it that awkward when we ran into each other again? I’ve played the part of a jilted ex enough, I know how to do it gracefully.” He’s aware he’s anything but graceful right now. He sounds downright bitchy.

“Angel above,” Alec mutters and wheels around, stopping Magnus in his tracks.

“Magnus, your life is in danger. According to you, I could be horribly murdered at any moment. And you want to talk about this _now_?” Magnus sees a muscle in his jaw twitch, the only sign, beyond his incredulous tone, that Magnus is pushing on a raw nerve. It just makes him want to press harder, strip Alec bare until he gets to the real emotions underneath his annoyingly professional façade.

“Why haven’t you asked me how I got my powers back?” he asks abruptly.

Alec’s mouth works silently for a few seconds as if searching for the words before he finally says, “I just assumed your father gave them back to you.”

“But you didn’t think to ask why? Or wonder what I had to give him in return? That’s pretty careless for the Head of the New York Institute.”

He inhales sharply through his nose and steps closer to Magnus, gripping his elbow. “What do you mean? Did he… did he offer you a deal?”

Magnus narrows his eyes, bristling at Alec’s intensity. Like he gives a shit. “Two years in Edom and the banishment of Lilith. He thought that would be enough time to convince me of ruling by his side. Eternity wouldn’t be enough time.”

“He offered you your magic back, in return for two years of your life?” Alec sounds suspicious, but there’s anger on his face that isn’t directed at Magnus.

“An easy trade, considering I had nothing keeping me here.” Alec blinks and then drops Magnus’ arm like he’s forgotten they don’t touch any more, stepping back for good measure.

“Then why did you come back?”

Magnus opens his mouth to tell him that it certainly wasn’t for Alec, no matter what he might assume, but Alec has stopped looking at him and is instead looking up at the top of the building. 

“What the-“ Alec starts, before drawing his bow and firing off a rapid volley of shots as a chorus of shrieks fill the air. “Kuri,” he growls as one of the spider demons falls into a dumpster with a dying screech.

Magnus summons fire power and blasts the next thing that moves, which is another of the disgusting beasts, seconds before another of Alec’s arrows goes flying into its multiple eyes. 

“So you think they’re here for you or me?” he asks Alec, turning away from him to cover the other end of the street and trusting Alec to keep firing.

“Does it matter? Not like we can ask them.”

“True.”

“Also, they don’t have mouths.”

Magnus grimaces. “But I’m sure I just saw teeth.”

“They have teeth in their eyes.”

Magnus is silent for a moment, continuing to set the oncoming demons on fire while Alec annihilates others behind him.

“That’s disgusting.” 

“Oh, _that’s_ what’s causing you concern right now?” Alec’s sarcasm is a welcome distraction from the truly heinous images Magnus can now see as his magic lights up more and more Kuri skittering towards them.

“Angel above, fuck this,” he hears Alec exclaim, turning just in time to see him shoot five arrows at once, taking down the first line of the creatures, leaving only a few more. 

“Impressive,” he notes, before something larger and altogether more unnerving, crawls towards them with a horrible chittering noise. He sends a ball of magic towards it but it moves too fast, ducking out of the way as another joins it.

“Alec,” he warns as Alec takes down the last of the Kuri. “Alec,” he says again with more urgency as more of the new demons joins their brethren.

“Shit,” Alec swears from behind him, and aims. The demon spits out a venom that deflects the arrow’s trajectory and it whines past the demon’s flared head to bury itself in the brick behind. Magnus mutters a small fire spell and sets the demon alight. It shrieks, flailing its many arms, waving sharp pincers in the air. Its brother hisses and takes a swipe at it before turning and rushing at them. Alec draws his sword and charges at the Elapid, catching one of its claws with his Seraph blade before sweeping down and severing it. He jams his weapon under the creature’s throat, turning his head away from its snapping jaws as it explodes. Another leaps for him but Magnus catches it before it reaches Alec, allowing him to stab another. The air is thick with the fetid smoke that accompanies demons, choking Magnus as he sends another ball of energy into the melee. He can barely see Alec, splashed with ichor, a blur of black and blood as he whirls, fighting them off.

Alec’s down to three demons left and he’s tiring, Magnus can tell. He draws upon his power and unleashes a bolt of magic that flies at the demons still standing, slicing them in two, their screams filling the street. And then there’s the unmistakable noise of a hiss, right behind him.

He turns sluggishly, bringing his hands up, but the demon is too close. He can see yellow venom dripping from its bared fangs, the scaled head weaving, getting ready to attack, its pincers poised.

“Magnus!” Alec yells and throws himself in front of the Elapid’s claws as they slash towards Magnus. As if in slow motion, Magnus watches as Alec’s hand falters as he struggles to bring his sword up to hack at the grotesque, shrieking creature. He’s not quick enough, his hand too shaky. Magnus hears him grunt in pain, doubling over, before Magnus blasts the demon with a bolt of furious energy that burns it where it stands. 

“Alec!” he cries and catches him before he starts to fall, his hand already searching for the wound, bringing healing energy into his palm and letting it flow over Alec’s body.

“Why would you do that?” He can barely see Alec’s face in the darkness but he can feel his pulse, rapid and fluttering as he holds him, pouring his magic into him. Alec clutches at the lapel of his jacket, his weight heavy enough to make Magnus stagger.

“Look at me. C’mon. You’ve already done one stupid thing tonight, you can’t pass out on me. Who else would I yell at?” He finds the wound on Alec’s side, bleeding sluggishly, and focuses his energy on stitching that back together, repairing the damage. He feels rather than hears Alec laugh. He can just make out Alec’s head lolling to one side, his eyelids heavy. An overwhelming fear takes hold of him, making his hands tremble as he works. He wills more power into Alec’s body.

“You’d find someone.”

“Well I don’t want someone. I want you.” He can finally feel Alec’s body respond to his magic, his heartbeat getting stronger. Alec blinks up at him and Magnus can see the haze of pain clear from his eyes. Alec is going to live. He’s ok. The thought still doesn’t calm his racing heart.

“Stand up, Alexander. Where’s your stele?”

Alec finds his balance, swaying slightly as Magnus lessens his hold on him and helps him to his feet. He grasps Alec by the shoulder anyway and sweeps his hand down the rest of him, seeking out any other damage, while Alec fumbles for his stele and activates his Iratze rune. He’s close, so close to Alec he can feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek. He dares to look up at Alec.

“Why would you do that?” he asks again, more softly, now that he can see Alec’s large eyes in the light of the half moon. In answer, Alec brings his hand up to cup Magnus’ face, his expression so open and full of love that it steals the air from his lungs. A thousand memories crowd his mind and he swallows, feeling his heart burn in his chest. His resolve slithers away from him and doesn’t even try to catch it, instead surging up to kiss Alec hungrily. He smells of smoke and ichor but feels like home, and the small, devastated noise he makes in the back of his throat turns Magnus’ knees to mush. It’s possibly the worst idea Magnus has ever had while also being the best.

They stumble until Magnus’ back hits the wall of the alley and he can push back against the way Alec is kissing him, desperate and needy, like at any minute this is going to be taken away from him. He should stop this now. He should. But Alec presses his long body against Magnus’ and breathes his name like a prayer and he’s only left with faint thoughts of a white shroud and the warmth of Alec in his arms again. Magnus summons a portal behind him. 

“Bed?” 

“We shouldn’t,” Alec says, panting raggedly, looking like he’s about to make a valid point or a sensible decision before Magnus cuts him off by kissing him again. This time Alec twines his fingers in Magnus’ hair and groans into it. Magnus takes that as objection heard, countered and dealt with, and pulls the portal over them both. They land on his bed with a bounce, and Alec raises his head to look around, blinking while he catches his bearings. Magnus pulls him back down into his embrace, and changes the sheets to gold silk without a conscious thought.

Alec brackets him, kissing him roughly, demanding entrance to his mouth and Magnus lets himself sink into it, pushing his hand up underneath Alec’s top. He hisses when ichor from Alec’s jacket touches his skin.

“Off,” he says, and Alec rises up to pull off his leather jacket, throwing it on the floor, and then reaches back and tugs his top off over his head. He’s the same as Magnus remembers, strong solid chest and that wonderful thick chest hair, and Magnus reaches up to push his fingers into it, making a pleased humming noise. There’s a thin raised line over his collarbone that trails down to Alec’s side. 

“New scars?” he asks, tracing it.

“A few,” Alec says, unbuttoning the top of Magnus’ shirt and putting his mouth on the skin he bares, licking and pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, grazing over a peaked nipple so that Magnus arches up and forgets what he was talking about. Or why they were talking. He snaps his fingers and banishes his clothes to his closet and Alec makes a small sad noise. He always did like unwrapping Magnus like a present. But Magnus is too impatient, too needy right now to indulge Alec, not when Alec is offering himself up. Not when Alec is looking at him like he is, with wide, dark eyes that rake over his body. The urgent need to take is simmering just under his skin but Magnus fights it down, concentrates on Alec, alive and here and with him in his bed, looking half-debauched just from a few kisses.   

“Magnus.” His voice is husky and inviting and Magnus pushes him back onto the sheets, rolling over him and magicking away his clothes and boots to the armchair. His stele Magnus keeps, twirling it between his fingers.

“You might need your stamina rune, angel.” Alec shudders and nods, wordlessly activating his rune and dropping his stele off the side of the bed, curling up to pull Magnus into another searing kiss, his hands warm and gentle as they trace Magnus’ throat, one leg hitching over Magnus’ hip to drag him down to grind on top of Alec. Magnus whines into Alec’s mouth at the feeling of his half-hard cock sliding over Alec’s, and gives in to the impulse to rut against him until Alec grips the sheets with a strangled noise. Alec’s leaking, his cock hard and flushed, looking about a minute away from coming. The question of how long it’s been for Alec flits through Magnus’ mind before he can help it. He pushes it away. He doesn’t want to think tonight. Doesn’t want to feel. He just wants to fuck Alec until they both pass out.

Magnus shushes him gently and pulls himself away to trail a path of kisses down his neck, licking over his Deflect rune. Old habits die hard, and it’s not like it’s a terrible habit anyway. He steadies Alec’s hips with his hands as he makes his way down his body, listening to Alec’s panting and half-vocalised moans when he licks at his chest and bites at his stomach before sucking a mark at his groin. He hovers over Alec’s erection and licks his lips, flicking his gaze up to Alec as his cocks spills another drop of pre-come that slides slowly down his length. 

“Look at you,” he breathes, making Alec shiver and fist the sheets, before sucking his cock into the wet heat of his mouth and sinking down slowly, curling his tongue to lap at the taste of him. That definitely hasn’t changed: earthy and sweet, like cinnamon and salt, flooding his mouth and making him moan around him. Alec makes a choked noise and bucks up, Magnus pressing him back onto the bed.

He doesn’t take it slow, instead opting to take him as deep as he can, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, breaking off every now and then to lick at the crown of his cock, dipping his tongue into Alec’s slit to catch the fluid there. His fingers curl round his hips and he rests his body on Alec’s legs to keep them still, feeling him jerk and writhe on the sheets as Magnus works his cock with his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. 

“Fuck, Magnus, Magnus.” Alec’s hand pushes into his hair and grips it, making Magnus moan round his cock. He sounds beautiful, voice already scratchy. Magnus dips lower and licks over his balls, kissing them sloppily, tongue trailing behind to the delicate skin there, feeling Alec shiver with the action. He flattens his tongue and licks back up his erection, looking back up at Alec through his eyelashes to watch as Alec stares back at him with near-black eyes before dropping his head back to the mattress with a long drawn out groan. He rocks his own erection onto the sheets for some relief as he swallows Alec back down, taking a steady breath through his nose as he sucks and sucks, taking him in to the root, tightening his throat around Alec’s cock as Alec clenches his fingers in Magnus’ hair, tries to form a babbling sentence and comes with a shout into Magnus’ mouth. He swallows, not able to catch it all so it drips down his chin, continuing to suck at Alec’s dick until Alec moans and tugs at his hair.

“Too much, too much, fuck,” Alec pants, trying to drag Magnus back up, but Magnus stays right where he is, licking Alec clean, lapping at his balls and delving behind them, pushing his hands under Alec to lift him up to wriggle into the cleft of his ass, making Alec whimper with over-sensitivity. He rubs his chin over the soft skin there, the scrape of his beard scratching and making Alec’s skin redden until he’s satisfied. Only then does he raise his head and take a deep breath, wiping his hand over his face and then licking his palm clean.

One, he thinks smugly to himself, and levers up to kiss Alec again, enjoying his sated, relaxed embrace and the way Alec has to keep breaking the kiss to gulp in air.  Alec’s long fingers frame Magnus’ jaw as he cradles his face, so reverent he thinks he might blurt out something stupid. He parts his mouth to give into the impulse as Alec moves down to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, and all that emerges is a long, drawn out moan.

“Magnus,” Alec breathes, and rolls them so he can get access to Magnus’ body, leaving him sprawled on the sheets, his hips seeking friction that’s no longer there.

“Wanna get my mouth on you,” Alec continues in a whispered admittance, trailing his hands down Magnus’ body to curl around his cock and Magnus hisses, arching up. Alec bites at one of Magnus’ nipples and Magnus curses in Sumerian. 

“Don’t make me come,” he chokes out. “I want to be inside you when I come.” Alec hums around his nipple, licking at it until Magnus shivers. Somewhere along the way Magnus has closed his eyes. He feels Alec move above him, his hand leaving his straining erection, and there’s a moment of nothing, nothing except their breathing before he’s enveloped in a warm, welcoming mouth, greedily pursed around the crown of his cock. 

“Oh, fuck, Alexander,” he groans, trying not to thrust into that familiar wet heat. It’s sloppy, the way Alec likes to give blow jobs, focused and enthusiastic more than practiced, nothing like the expert head he’s been treated to in the past few months and so perfect it eclipses everything else. Alec’s hand cups his balls and squeezes them gently as he licks down Magnus’ cock and Magnus risks looking down at him. Alec is focused on him, mouth stretched around his dick, lips pink and shiny, his gaze full of want as he watches Magnus.

“Off,” Magnus says, shuddering when Alec hums and slowly pulls up. “I won’t be able to last otherwise.”

Alec pulls off with an obscene noise. “Want me to ride you?” His voice is husky and sounds downright filthy, and all Magnus can do is shake his head and tackle Alec back onto the bed.

“Like this,” he says, grabbing a pillow and pushing it under Alec’s hips. He obliges, letting his legs widen without shame. His ass is still flushed from where Magnus rubbed his beard, and Magnus gives in to temptation, dipping his head to kiss the curve of it. He snaps his fingers and coats them in lube, hears the thud of Alec pressing his hand against the headboard to steady himself. He tries valiantly not to think about if he was the last person to do this to Alec. He hates the part of himself that hopes that it’s true.

He first finger goes in easily, Alec accepting him into his body without a sound, so he teases his rim with two fingers, stretching it and watching it clutch at his fingertips, working both fingers in until they are buried inside him and Alec is panting audibly.

“God, Magnus. More, come on, I won’t break.” Magnus hums noncommittally and rotates his hand, curling his fingers to seek Alec’s prostate. He knows he’s found it when he strokes up and Alec near-lifts off the bed.

“Oh,” Alec says dumbly, and jerks when Magnus does it again. Alec’s cock still hasn’t gone down thanks to his Stamina rune, and as Magnus gently strokes that spot inside of him, he watches pre-come pool at the tip.

“Beautiful,” Magnus purrs and leans forward to swipe his tongue over it, pulling his fingers back and separating them to stretch Alec. Alec is swearing under his breath, a litany of ‘fucks’ that makes Magnus smile.

“Now you get more,” Magnus tells him, looking up to watch Alec’s mouth drop open at the burn of three fingers, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, the most beautiful man Magnus has ever seen. He rubs his thumb soothingly over the soft skin behind his balls and then presses as he crooks his fingers and is rewarded with Alec jack-knifing off the bed with a hoarse cry.

“In me,” he pants, reaching for Magnus. “Get inside me. Fuck me, Magnus, come _on_.” 

He can’t wait any longer either, hitching Alec’s thighs up over his arms and conjuring more lube to slick his cock, lining himself up and catching Alec’s rim.

“Your wish…” he says, as he sinks inside Alec in one steady push, feeling the head of his cock breach him, a moment of resistance as Alec tenses and then relaxes to let him bury himself inside him. He bottoms out and takes a breath, feeling Alec’s pulse surround his cock, watching Alec’s mouth stretch open in satisfaction. 

He’s too far gone to be gentle, driving back and filling Alec again and again with swift deep thrusts, reveling in how tight Alec is gripping him. He can feel sweat trickle down his temple as he moves, shakes it out of his eyes, and looks up to watch Alec brace himself against the headboard and move with Magnus, pushing himself back onto his dick, working his body to drive Magnus deeper. The slap of skin on skin fills the room as Magnus braces himself on his knees and clings to Alec’s hips. Alec’s never been shy about chasing his release and tonight is no different, even if he’s already come once. But he’s not touching his cock, as if he remembers that Magnus likes to be the one to pull his orgasm from him, likes to be the one to cause Alec to cry out and shake apart.

Magnus can feel his stomach tighten with anticipation, feels that molten coil of pleasure low in his gut begin to infuse his bones. He doesn’t have a Stamina rune and Alec could have died earlier, and he’s not in the mood for delayed gratification anyway, so he grunts as he rebalances himself to tip forward and curl over Alec, hitching his legs up higher as he does so, to wrap his hand around Alec’s slippery cock. Alec leans up to kiss Magnus clumsily, more of an open mouth smash than a kiss, but it allows Magnus to fuck his tongue into Alec’s mouth in the same rhythm as his cock, dirty and demanding. He can feel Alec begin to tremble under him as he strokes his dick between their bodies.

“Just a little longer, sweetheart,” he murmurs brokenly, moving faster now, feeling himself begin to unravel. Alec whines in response and rakes his nails over Magnus’ back as he grinds into him.  

“Magnus, Magnus,” Alec chants, sounding wrecked, the sweat-slide of them rocking the bed and making it squeak. Magnus’ lungs feel raw with every breath he draws, his hips beginning to falter, his limbs aching with exertion. He can feel his climax building, drawing higher and higher as he drags Alec to the edge with him, moving his hand faster in long stripping pulls.

“Come on then,” he pants into Alec’s mouth, dipping to suck his bottom lip, nipping at it sharply. “Come for me.”

Alec gasps. “Oh, god, oh –” and then hides his face in the hollow of Magnus throat as he shudders through his orgasm with a ragged shout, digging his fingers into Magnus’ back so hard he can feel each crescent mark brand his skin. Magnus can feel a rush of warmth over his belly and knows it’s Alec’s come.

He snaps his hips once, twice and buries himself inside Alec with a harsh cry, spilling inside of him, shaking as pleasure overwhelms him. A sweetness floods his mouth and makes him dizzy, clouding his head as his cock weakly pulses inside Alec, his hips still working slowly through it. 

Magnus blinks, and takes a deep breath before pushing one unsteady arm out to take his weight and unsticking his hand from around Alec’s spent cock, wiping it on the sheets carelessly. He’ll clean everything up later. Right now, all he wants to do is drink a gallon of water and kiss Alec until he falls asleep. He looks down to where Alec is unfurling himself from his tight grip of Magnus’ body, his eyes heavy-lidded, and feels a thrum of satisfaction run through him. He noses over Alec’s nose, and presses a soft kiss to his mouth before grimacing as he pulls out and extricates himself from Alec’s embrace.

A snap of his fingers and two bottles of water appear on the bedside table. He hands one to a grateful looking Alec and uncaps the other, downing half of it before taking another deep breath.

“Holy fuck,” Alec says, finishing his water and flopping back down beside Magnus, pressed against his side.

“Close,” Magnus quips and gives into the desire to wriggle down next to Alec, a wave of his hand making a fresh sheet appear over them. He’s exhausted and Alec doesn’t look any better, his eyes barely open as he sinks deeper into Magnus’ pillows. Magnus throws an arm over Alec’s waist and kisses him again, parting his mouth to lazily sweep his tongue over Alec’s, making him hum with a sleepy satedness. Alec is intoxicating like this, his face relaxed, open and trusting. Magnus is determined not to think about what any of this means, if anything, until he’s awake enough to hate himself.

“Can go again in a bit,” Alec mumbles, clasping him closer and Magnus grins into his shoulder.

“You might be able to, but I can’t,” he tells Alec. “Sleep now, angel.” 

“Mmmm. Love you,” Alec slurs before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep, limbs sprawled out across Magnus’ bed likes he’s there every night, unaware he’s upended Magnus’ universe.

He stares down at Alec, his parted lips, dark hair sticking up haphazardly, one arm slung over Magnus, and thinks: he was going to give all this up because he believed Alec felt nothing for him. That anger and pain kept him going in Edom; he let it define him, consume him, become him. And now Alec undoes it with a gesture, a look, a phrase. His reality unravels before him, but he’s too tired and strung out to chase for where the thread begins. That will have to wait. For tonight, he’ll allow himself this. He’ll allow himself everything he now can admit that he wants, even if it’s a lie.

 

In the morning Magnus stirs and stretches an arm out. It’s like most other mornings; he’s got horrific morning breath because he forgot his teeth-cleaning spell, he can feel mascara caked onto his eyelashes and he’s alone in sticky silk sheets. When that last fact registers in his brain, he abruptly sits up, blinking, the sheets pooling around his hips. The room is still and empty; Alec has clearly gone. Magnus scrubs at his face, trying to force away the pang in his heart. Alec fleeing like he’s one of Magnus’ many one-night stands cuts him deeper than he thought. He thought Alec would always be special. That he wouldn’t be like _them_. Magnus hates to feel this disappointed, and he can’t work out what’s worse: that Alec felt he had to leave like that, or the idea he _wanted_ to leave like that. One means Alec is afraid of what Magnus might say. The other… it’s too early to be angry even if he does feel discarded. No, worse than that: lied to and betrayed. Good enough to fuck, not good enough for breakfast.

He huffs a bitter laugh at the realization that, right at the beginning of their courtship, Magnus had expected to be here, like this. That Alec would be coaxed into bed but not brave enough to stay for waffles, to deal with the reality of himself – of Magnus – in the cold light of dawn. It only took them about four or so more years than he expected to get him here, alone and unhappy and wanting more. It aches dully in his chest. If he had Alec here he could look into his warm eyes and know what he was thinking. Without him, he only has the muddle of his memories and the reality of being alone, and try as he might, he can’t make them mesh.

He feels like something is very, very wrong. He can’t work out if it’s because of Alec’s words last night, or three years ago. Both of them are real, he’s sure of it. He has a pleasing ache in this thighs, and messy sheets, and a fractured heart. But only one of them can be true, and he squints at his wall as if that will help him figure out which one.  

It doesn’t. He’s left feeling bereft, like there’s something vital he’s missing. Like everyone else got a different version of the book he’s reading and is privy to information that might change the entire plot. It’s unnerving and makes him feel reckless. He summons a whiskey into his hand and downs it, grimacing. Might as well start the day as he means to go on. A sudden thought occurs to him and Magnus rolls over and grabs for his phone, unlocking it to check his messages. A picture from Madzie and three invites to parties he now has no intention of attending but nothing from the one person he wants to hear from.

A wave of despair washes over him at the idea that Alec might turn back into the cold man he’s acted like around Magnus before last night. He’ll scream. He wants Alec, he wants _his Alexander_ , the Alexander from last night, there’s no use denying that now. All the hurt might be forgiven if he just knew why Alec acted the way he did. He pours over Alec’s words from last night in fine detail, searching for something he might have missed. The only thing he catches on and keeps coming back to is how Alec reacted to Magnus’ deal with his father. And Lorenzo’s voice annoyingly returns to him. “Don’t you think that’s a little strange?” If Alec wasn’t going to ask him how his powers returned… that feels like Alec knew how already. But Magnus’ bargain with Asmodeus had shocked him – more than that, had angered Alec.

He thinks over his next course of action while in the shower, letting the hot water ease his muscles. There’s really only one thing to do if he doesn’t want to slink back to the way he’s been living, and it has its risks. Oh, who is he kidding. It’s a terrible idea and of course it’s the only way he’s going to be satisfied. If he can’t ask Alec because Alec has run away from him, then he has to ask the only other person who might know. The other person he swore he never wanted to see again.

Once dressed, he marks a pentagram on the floor, places some strong wards around it and barks an invocation, watching at the pentagram lights up, flares into fire and then dies down again, leaving his father standing there.

“My son,” Asmodeus says, smiling, holding out his arms. 

“None of that,” Magnus snaps.

“It’s not a social call? I thought perhaps you’d grown bored and wanted my company.”

Magnus scoffs at that. “Oh, please. The only thing I want from you are answers.”

Asmodeus stares at him, unblinking, a sly smirk on his face. And then he inhales, looking around the room.

“Hmmm. I smell Nephilim all over you. My dear boy, don’t tell me you’re mixed up with them again. Did the last time teach you nothing?”

“Funny you should mention that.” He glares at his father. “Strange how there are demons attacking people I know all over the city.” 

Asmodeus has the audacity to look shocked. He’s not trying that hard though, so it’s the worst faux-upset expression Magnus has ever seen.

“Attacking people? How dreadful. You can’t tell these lower demons anything. Nor, it seems, can you count on Shadowhunters to keep their word.”

Magnus narrows his eyes and takes a step towards his father. “What do you mean by that?”

Asmodeus raises his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug and then looks down, inspecting his nails in a casually dismissive gesture. “It’s not like I didn’t warn him. Your Alexander Gideon Lightwood.”

A wave of cold rushes through Magnus. Hearing Alec’s full name fall from his father’s lips is unnerving. 

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“Me?” Asmodeus presses his hand to his chest in an innocent gesture. “Me, I did nothing. I just did what he wanted. For the right price, of course.”

“Father.”

Asmodeus sighs. “Your ‘beloved’ sold you back to me. It could never have lasted, of course, and he knew that deep down. But he was so insistent you get your magic back. And your immortality, even though it would mean you would forget all about him in a scant few centuries. He must have been very tired of your whining. He didn’t even hesitate. Or apparently give you a choice.”

There’s a faint ringing in Magnus’ ears, and he shakes his head as if that will help to clear it.

“What?” he asks faintly. “No. Alec would never do that. He’d never…” be so stupid, he wants to say, but Alec would. He would be exactly that stupid. He’d go to the one person that had Magnus’ magic and demand it back, and give Magnus up without argument. Because Magnus was just a mundane burden.

“What fool summoned me indeed.” Asmodeus smiles, too wide and with too many teeth. “When you returned I knew I had to deal with him more permanently. Tell me, is he well?”

Anger flares up inside Magnus and he raises his hands before he’s aware of doing so. “You stay away from him. You nearly killed him.”

“Oops,” Asmodeus says, unrepentant. “Missed.”

Magnus whips a line of magic around his father’s throat and pulls it tight, choking him, watching him try to pull it away. He can see the golden eyes that mirror his gleam brighter in the light of his magic.

“You let me give you two years of my life, my service to get rid of Lilith for nothing. _Nothing_.” 

“Can’t a father just want to be close to his son?” Asmodeus manages to choke out, a hand outstretched in supplication. Magnus isn’t fooled for one second.

“I loathe the fact that your blood flows through my veins,” he tells his father. “Release your hold on whoever you’re controlling. Call off these attacks. People I care about are dying.”

“Or you’ll what?” gasps Asmodeus, sounding gleeful despite the lack of air. “We both know you’ll never hurt me.” 

“Do we?” Magnus asks in a threateningly light tone. “I don’t know if I’d be that confident, _father_.” And he whips the garotte away before throwing his magic into the pentagram to banish Asmodeus back to his prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeeeeeeek! So... that happened and now Magnus knows the truth! How do you think he's going to react? Come talk to me on Twitter at @alittlebriton and tag #goodfic! Next chapter is my favourite chapter :)


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first chapter I wrote of this entire fic. It's literally 4,513 words of a long-overdue argument. Enjoy!

Magnus claps his hands and mutters the words to close the demonic connection, pauses, and does it again to make sure. And then he stares at the patch of rug his father stood upon for a while, trying to work out his emotions. His entire world has been rearranged and he feels like a fool; made an ignorant idiot by Alec and an unwitting victim by his father. Too easy and too quick and he should have known better, should have known something wasn’t right. The feeling of betrayal carves out a space between his ribs and invites anger to curl around it. He feeds it, allows it to grow, to cover him as armor, to square his shoulders and light up his eyes as he summons a portal and steps through. 

As he stalks through the corridors of The Institute, sparks trail in his wake. He draws attention, a murmur from the Nephilim who crowd at first to peek, and then scatter when they see his face. Alec’s office door is open and the room is empty so he breezes past it and into the weird blue light of the Ops Center, where the glow frames the shimmer of magic coming off his body and proves a perfect contrast to his cat eyes, free from their glamour. Several Shadowhunters actually reach for their weapons.

In contrast, Alec looks up from the table where he’s explaining something to a colleague and Magnus can see his pupils dilate. 

“You,” Magnus begins, in a tone so cold he’s surprised it doesn’t frost the air in front of him, and Alec gratifyingly snaps into a wary posture, handing his tablet to his colleague and giving his full attention to Magnus.

“Magnus?” he asks, tilting his head and sounding cautious. But those big hazel eyes can’t puppy-dog their way out of this.

“You made a deal with my father,” he hisses loudly and the entire room stops and stares at Alec. Someone drops their weapon and it makes a loud clang, shaking Alexander from where he’s frozen to the ground.

“My office,” he says, striding towards him. If he makes a shooing motion Magnus will strike him dead right here, Accords be damned. Instead he comes to a halt in front of Magnus, not backing down or looking afraid. There’s a fading mark peeking out from under his collar and Magnus tastes salt in his mouth 

“Please,” is all Alec says, softly. Magnus takes a long, measured breath in through his nose, turns on his heel and marches back to Alec’s office.

It’s still as ugly as it ever was. Nephilim place too much faith in dark colors hiding age.

“You sold me to my father,” he says in a strangled voice as he stands in the middle of the room, his back to Alec. 

“No. I ended our relationship for your magic and immortality back,” comes Alec’s calm reply, and then comes the quiet click of the latch as he closes the door behind him.

“Same thing,” Magnus spits. “You left me so alone that when my father came to me and offered me the same thing in return for two years in Edom, I took it.”

Alec walks around him, folds his arms and Magnus finally raises his head to meet Alec’s impassive gaze.

“I didn’t know that at the time. I thought I was making a simple deal – give you up and watch you get your life back. Get your happiness back.”

He stares at Alec, feeling hollowed out, empty. “How could you not let me know?” he finally croaks.

“It was the terms of the deal,” Alec says simply.

“Because my father knew I’d never agree to it,” Magnus shoots back immediately. Alec snorts. 

“Hell, Magnus, _I_ knew that. But he was right. Just because you wouldn’t agree to it, didn’t mean you wouldn’t end up resenting that choice. And besides…” Alec trails off.

“What?”

“Are you so sure?” he bursts out, looking shocked at himself, and Magnus frowns, not understanding him. “I couldn’t… you chose the Downworld over me, once. You might have chosen your magic. Maybe I just didn’t want to hear you say it.” 

“So you were protecting yourself?” Magnus asks incredulously, watching as Alec looks down at the floor. “I never took you for a coward.” 

“I made a choice,” Alec murmurs, sounding bone-weary. “I made a choice to make you happy, because you said you weren’t. You said you weren’t happy just… being with me, living a mortal life. I broke your heart...” He makes a gesture that implies Magnus can fill in the next part of that sentence.

“Either way, we’d end up broken.” Alec rubs his hand over his face and looks up at Magnus, mouth stretched in a bitter mockery of mirth. “I just took the hit.”

“Selfish,” Magnus hisses, anger rising to the surface so that his fingers spark menacing crackles of blue, lancing between his hands and the floor. Alec makes no attempt to move as Magnus advances on him. 

“How dare you? How dare you? You presumed to know my mind and speak for me-“

“Yes!” Alec finally breaks and yells, his eyes wild and pleading. “Yes I did, to make you happy. So you wouldn’t have to let me down easy. Or you wouldn’t spend fifty years resenting me until it poisoned us. There was no other choice I could make, Magnus. And it _ended_ me.”

Magnus stares at him, overwhelmed into paralysis. 

“I love you, Magnus. I will always love you until my last breath. How could I live knowing I’d made your life unhappy? How could I live knowing I’d condemned you to die?”

Magnus throws a ball of energy at the wall in sheer frustration, close to Alec’s head. Alec inhales, trembling, and then turns his face back to look at him, unrepentant despite his red-rimmed eyes.

“You would love again. I always knew that. If you had your immortality back you would one day move on, whether or not I spent my life with you. Even now, I’d do it again. Every lifetime, I’d always choose your happiness.”

“You should have let me make the decision. It’s my life, Alexander, my death, my happiness. I should have been allowed to have a say.” His voice is quiet against Alec’s ragged breathing.

“I wanted to. He told me he wouldn’t do it if you knew. And he was right, Magnus. Everything he said was true.”

“I don’t even know what he said and I know that’s a lie,” Magnus shoots back immediately, but Alec continues over him as if he hadn’t spoken.

“And I know now love can’t fix everything. I couldn’t be your happiness. I thought I was enough, that one person could be everything. But that’s a fool’s game. I’d rather…” Alec trails off, searching for the right words. “I’d rather be your something than your everything.”

“My best thing,” Magnus counters, and then shakes himself. He shouldn’t be talking like this, like there’s a chance for them. But the wild hope in Alec’s eyes makes him pause.

“You took the last thing I felt I could rely on and destroyed it with barely a blink or flicker of doubt,” he tells Alec, watching as the words land and bruise. 

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to walk away from you that night,” Alec says, shaking his head.

“How hard it was for _you_? Oh, apologies. Don’t let my feelings get in the way of your noble sacrifice.” Fury washes over him again. How dare he make this about him again? How dare he downplay and underestimate how it felt, to be torn into pieces with no way of putting himself back together. No hope of being whole.

“I thought you would be fine, given enough time.” Alec visibly grits his teeth, his hand clenching by his side. 

“Ha,” Magnus snorts. “Spoiler alert: I was not fine.”

“But you would be,” Alec presses, even through Magnus’ anger. “You once told me that magic was your way of connecting with the world. When I was given that choice, I became the only thing standing in the way of you being part of this world again.”

“This wasn’t about you,” Magnus bites out, his skin flaming as he tries to push aside the emotional memory of that loss, of not having his magic reassuringly at his fingertips, stemming from his soul. “No matter how many times you try to tell me otherwise.”

“It wasn’t about me,” Alec acknowledges, his face twisting as he stands taller. “But it was because of me. So I had to fix it.” Magnus opens his mouth to rebut that as well but Alec plunges onwards.

“You did the same thing for me, Magnus. You gave up your magic to save me from losing my Parabatai. Part of my soul. And I took it for granted.” Alec shrugs, looking helplessly defeated. “I didn’t pay enough attention to how it was affecting you, to how much it took from you. I left you to spiral. That’s what I regret. Not acting sooner.”

“ _That’s_ what you regret?”

Alec throws his hands up. “I regret everything, Magnus. I regret how I left you, I regret being forced into that position, I regret how I didn’t listen to you until it was too late, and most of all I regret not finding some way to convince you that I loved you, magic or not.” He steps forward, looking intently at Magnus. Magnus’ heart stutters in his chest. 

“There is nothing,” Alec continues in a low, dangerously intimate tone, “that you could do, or be, or become, that would ever stop me from loving you.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Magnus interrupts, not able to bear the question burning through his tongue any longer. “When I came back. You could have found me, told me all of this.”

Alec stares at him and barks a hollow laugh. “I think you underestimate how much your father wants you by his side.”

Magnus frowns and then something clicks in his head, his expression clearing. 

“Underhill. You knew my father was behind that attack.” 

He nods. “I assumed. I thought he was locked away in Edom, but I know he’s powerful. Powerful enough to make an attempt on my life even if he was in his own realm. The message left in my locked room just underlined it. ‘If I can get to you, I can get to him. Don’t contact him.’ I thought he was threatening you.”

“Is that why you had me followed?”

Alec grimaces. “Sure. Let’s say that was the reason.”

Magnus gives him a look. “I feel that probably spectacularly backfired on you.” He hadn’t been subtle in his screwing around, nor choosy. 

“You think that I didn’t know you’d move on when I let you go? You think that wasn’t something that kept me up at night, knowing you’d love someone else? I made my bed. I knew I was going to lie in it alone.” Magnus frowns. Alec doesn’t sound bitter or resentful, but instead just sounds accepting, weary. Like a lifetime of loneliness was something he deserved.

He sounds, Magnus realizes, like he did when he was going to marry Lydia. When he was going to hurt himself permanently to protect the people he loved the most. Magnus nearly stumbles on the spot with the weight of this revelation. That at some point, Alec Lightwood had placed him alongside his family in the position of the people he loved so fiercely he’d never let them down, no matter the personal cost. That he was so important to Alec that he’d sacrifice his future happiness for him.

He thinks back to the times he showed off the marks other people had made, back to how open and purposeful he’d been about being intimate with others, rubbing Alec’s nose in it. And all that time Alec was in love with him. All that time he’d not stopped. Magnus sways with the thought, so big he can’t quite get his head around it, can’t focus on the pain he must have caused every time Alec saw him or received a report on his actions. 

“My god,” he says faintly. “My god, Alec.” 

Alec waves away his concern. “Anyway, I broke the rule. I couldn’t take it anymore and had to see you. Just once.”

The enormity of the consequences of Alec’s actions are just beginning to sink in, leeching his anger in waves. It unmoors him. He needs to cling to the stability of his hurt, the sturdy platform of his pain and righteous fury. He reaches for that warmth of his ever-present outrage and finds it banked without his permission, rapidly dwindling down to embers.

“Asmodeus was threatening you. He had enough power to mount an attack on two Shadowhunters. Why the hell didn’t you go to Lorenzo?”

Alec blinks at Magnus, confused for a moment, and then raises his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? Lorenzo resented you already. You think I was going to tell him that your father was the reason his boyfriend was murdered? Underhill died saving me. Lorenzo was the one who found us, for angel’s sake. He...” Alec trails off, his voice suddenly wavering and Magnus can’t take it anymore.

He steps forward and curls his palm around Alec’s cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone, something cracking inside his chest, a spring welling for the first time after a thaw.

“Alexander,” he says, like he’s admitting something. Perhaps he is. He tips Alec’s face up, making Alec look at him.

“It _hurts_ ,” Alec breathes, his voice so raw that Magnus can hardly bear it. “It hurts so much to talk about him. About that night. I was so nervous and excited that you were back, Magnus. I wanted nothing more than to run to you, but I thought you’d never speak to me again. Underhill - he said he’d take me out, talk me through it. He was so patient, Magnus.” Tears stream down Alec’s face, faster than Magnus can brush them away.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he offers softly, holding Alec’s wet gaze. “You can let me see.” He brings his other hand to rest against Alec’s temple and watches as Alec grasps his meaning. When Alec nods, he lets out a breath.

“I’m sorry.” And he digs into Alec’s memory.

_Alec leans against Underhill’s shoulder, laughing at Andrew’s recount of introducing Lorenzo to his family. “You should contact him. Set up a portal. He’d never say no to a night cap and I haven’t seen him in a while,” Alec says. “And I could do with the advice of someone who dislikes Magnus.” His body feels full of sadness and bourbon but there’s a shining spark of hope that is making his fingers jittery, running like caffeine through his veins._

_“Hey,” Underhill protests. “I tried. I just think you’re an idiot and should go to him as soon as you can.” He flourishes his stele and a fire message is sent off an in instant. “I keep reminding you, Shadowhunters love once.”_

_“And love fiercely,” Alec finishes, smiling even though his tone is morose._

_“He’ll have a portal for us any moment,” Andrew assures him. “And you can get him telling you the exact same thing. I know how you like to hear things in triplicate before deciding.”_

_There’s a blur of darkness and an inhuman screech and Andrew disappears from Alec’s view. Blinking in confusion, Alec can’t focus, his brain lagging behind his senses, and then Andrew is in front of him and yelling, his blade out and dripping with ichor._

_“Alec! Call for back-up!” Andrew spins around and takes on another demon that drops from the shadows. Alec fumbles for his phone, presses the panic button and draws his own blade as a Ravener skitters towards him. He can hear more growls and Andrew panting behind him as they fight, demons replacing the ones they take down like there’s a secret army emerging from the walls of the alley._

_Neither of them notice a portal opening near them._

_“Where the hell are these coming from?” Alec yells and Andrew grunts in reply. “Damned if I know. Fuck, I hope the others get here soon.”_

_Alec spins and draws his bow, taking down a demon poised to leap on Andrew, slinging it back over his shoulder as he flips over him to slice at another one. He hears an ungodly bellow that cuts through the night and his blood runs cold. He knows that sound._

_“Edomai,” shouts Andrew as they both turn to see the beast bearing down on Alec. He’s slow, too slow, reaching for his bow as it opens its mouth, fire churning in its throat._

_“No!” screams Andrew as he shoves Alec out of the way and fire engulfs them, burning Alec’s outstretched arm as he tries to grab his friend, pain numbing his side. He lands on the floor and smacks his head, blinking, his ears ringing so loud it almost drowns out the sound of the Wraith Demon roaring as it circles and comes back. This is it; Alec thinks, this is how I die. Izzy is his first thought, layered with Jace and Jace’s pain. And then, as inevitable as the tide, his mind draws to Magnus: Magnus laughing at Madzie’s games, Magnus cradling Alec’s face as he kisses him so desperately, urging him to stay, Magnus with his cat eyes, stretched out and sated, achingly vulnerable to Alec’s love. He closes his eyes and exhales, waiting for it to be over._

_The creature screeches again and then bellows in pain as a whoosh of energy skims over Alec’s body and there’s an explosion bright enough to light up behind his eyelids, blinding him. There’s an eerie silence for a moment, broken only by the thud of Alec’s heart in his ears, and then to his right comes a low, raw moan. He manages to turn his head and opens his eyes to the sight of Lorenzo, yellow magic whirling around his hands as he falls to his knees besides Andrew’s body, burnt nearly beyond recognition. Alec’s entire right side is throbbing, and he can’t feel his arm but he tries to stretch out towards them anyway, the shocked devastation on Lorenzo’s face the last thing he sees before blackness blessedly takes him._

Magnus blinks his eyes open to find his face wet, mirroring Alec’s, and there’s nothing else to do but take him into his arms as Alec sobs into Magnus’ shoulder. “Darling,’ he croons, stroking through Alec’s hair. “Oh, darling, it wasn’t your fault.”

Alec mumbles something unintelligible into the rapidly dampening cloth, and Magnus knows exactly what he’s saying without being able to hear the words.

“I know he was protecting you. He was doing his job. But it wasn’t your fault. It was my father’s. Only my father’s. Come on, now.” He hears Alec hiccup and draw in a shaky breath and then feels the smallest of nods, his hands gripping the fabric of Magnus’ jacket briefly before he pushes himself away. Magnus reaches up and drags his thumb under Alec’s eyes. 

“You were hurt,” he says. “Your mother said you spent a week in the infirmary.” Alec nods, swallowing thickly.

“The Silent Brothers helped to heal me. My hand… it’s still stiff. I’ve taken myself off patrol until I know I’m no longer a liability.” Raziel knows how hard that must have been for Alec to do.

“When I was well enough to return to work, I found the note on my pillow. A warning. I thought the murders were because I ignored it and came to your home to arrest Curtis, but you confirmed that they started well before I saw you again.”

“My father’s not going to kill me,” Magnus tells him. “You’re the target. We need to find out how he’s doing this. Who is working with him.” Alec clears his throat and steps back, wiping his face, visibly pulling himself together.

“The Institute is in danger,” he says and Magnus nearly rolls his eyes at this impossible man. 

“Sure,” is all he says in a deadpan voice. “The Institute.” Alec shoots him a glare.

“I’m not having more people die to protect me. If he wants me, then that’s something we can use.”

“You want to play bait,” Magnus realizes and steps forward again to clutch at Alec’s sleeve. “Alec, no. It’s too dangerous.”

“No it’s not,” Alec counters. “We just need a plan.” Magnus looks into his eyes, only finding stubborn resolve in their depths. The sight fills him with warmth, love diffusing through his veins until he fears it shines from his very soul. He’s defenseless against the onslaught and doesn’t even try to resist. He’s spent so long fighting it with every atom of his being, putting up wall after wall, disappearing into himself to hide the truth that burns his very core. He can’t stop loving Alexander. 

“And after?” he asks quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“After. After we catch who’s doing this. After I stop my father. He can’t take my magic away again and he won’t have any leverage over us.”

Understanding crosses Alec’s face and he inhales, holds it, waits for Magnus to continue. Magnus can feel him tremble beneath his fingertips where he’s holding his forearms.

“We lost nearly three years because of him. I’m still livid - justifiably so - about you making decisions for me. But you must know. You _must_ , Alexander. There’s no one else but you, there never will be anyone that I love the way I love you. You are my heart. The reason it beats.”

Alec bends forward and touches his forehead to Magnus’, just breathing in. His hand is a delicious weight between Magnus’ shoulder blades, reassuring. Magnus slides his hand over Alec’s chest to feel the fast thrum of his pulse under his palm.

“I didn’t give you the choice before. It seems only right that that’s what I offer you now,” Alec starts, searching Magnus’ face anxiously. Magnus wants to give in, to reassure, to throw caution to the wind and leap in with his heart open and waiting, completely defenseless. But he can’t. Alec may have burned that part of him away for good. 

“You destroyed me, that day,” is what falls out of his mouth. It’s both overly dramatic and an understatement. 

“The only thing I can do is promise you it won’t happen again.” Alec’s face is so earnest and open that it takes every inch of his willpower not to lean in and kiss him. Instead, Magnus squeezes his eyes shut and nods.

“But if you let me,” Alec continues, as Magnus feels his hand move to stroke over his back, “I’ll never be able to let you go. So you have to be sure, Magnus. I don’t care how slow we have to take it. But after we deal with your father… I will take whatever chance you give me.”

All of them, Magnus wants to say. I will give you every chance, over and over if it makes you stay this time. He bites his lip to stay silent.

“But let’s get this bastard first. We, us, can wait until after.”

What Alec is saying is sensible. After they deal with Asmodeus, after the threat to Alec’s life is gone. They can rebuild what they had slowly, take their time in relearning each other. Magnus nods again, letting out a shaky, ‘Yes’ before pulling away and clearing his throat.

He’s still ludicrously close to Alec, so close he can count his eyelashes, can see the flecks of amber in his eyes. The air between them is thick, almost cloyingly heavy.

“So. How do we go about using you as bait?” He tries for light and misses it by a good few miles, the worry shining through his tone. Alec squeezes his upper arms in reassurance.

“Maybe there’s a pattern we’ve missed. Otherwise I’ll be walking alone down a lot of alleyways.” Alec straightens up but keeps hold of Magnus. He’s suddenly finding it hard to breathe under the heat of Alec’s gaze. 

“Not that helpful,” he manages, smiling, and Alec shakes his head. “I’ll go find a useful Nephilim who can show me the peaks of demonic activity over the past three years, see if that shows us anything.” 

“Ok.” Alec nods, his gaze dipping to Magnus’ mouth and back again. “I’ll find Jace, tell the others to head to the Ops Center.”

“Good plan,” Magnus says, feeling a little light-headed, and then gestures to the door. “I’ll just… I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah,” Alec echoes, and Magnus reluctantly pulls away, slipping out the door with one final lingering look at Alec. Every step he takes away from Alec feels heavier, and when he turns the corner his feet slow of their own accord as his mind races. He could have kissed Alec. That’s a thing he can do again, now, he’s sure of it. He _should_ have kissed Alec. And Alec is in danger, is about to put himself right in the path of his father’s wrath, and Magnus stops in his tracks without consciously telling his body to stop. He wheels around abruptly and starts to hurry back towards Alec’s office. Ahead of him he hears footsteps speed up towards him and he prepares to dodge whoever it is as he rounds the corner at pace. 

Magnus skids to a stop in front of a wide-eyed Alec, who grasps his arm with not inconsiderable urgency. 

“Listen,” Alec starts, “do we really need to wait until after?” just as Magnus says, “Taking it slow is so twenty eighteen.” They both grin at each other with relief, their answers of, “Good point,” and, “Oh thank god,’ overlapping before they collide together, unaware of who moved first. Magnus threads his fingers in Alec’s thick hair and licks into the welcoming heat of his mouth, allowing Alec to fold him into his arms and press him against the wood paneling of the wall.

Magnus loses time, after that, falling into Alexander’s bruising kisses, feeling them sink into his bones and crack him apart, make him whole again. When they peter to light brushes of Alec’s lips over his mouth, over his cheekbone, he allows himself to step back and open his eyes. Alec’s hair is mussed and his mouth pink, and it makes Magnus want to drag him to bed to see how plump he can make it. He sees the same heat in Alexander’s eyes, but it’s tempered with regret. 

“I know,” Magnus says, and presses back for one final kiss. “I know, my darling. We have to deal with my father.”

Alec takes his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “Together,” he promises, before they make their way to the Ops Center.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am. INCANDESCENT with anticipation to know what you guys think! I loved writing the flow of this fight and reconciliation, how Magnus wanted to cling so badly to his anger because it's risky to open yourself to love again, and how Alec understands that maybe he can't make decisions for both of them again. Our boys have a lot of things left to discuss but hopefully this is a start.
> 
> As always, please leave a comment - I try to respond to each one - and hit me up on Twitter at @alittlebriton and tagging #goodfic.


	5. Five

Magnus catches sight of Jace running down the steps in front of the stained-glass window and he pinpoints the exact moment that Jace notices that he and Alec are holding hands because Jace’s smile stretches so wide that for a moment, Magnus understands what Biscuit sees in him.

He blissfully says nothing as he joins Magnus and Alec at the War Table, as Magnus always calls it, and he rises further in Magnus’ estimation. Mostly he remembers Jace as the person who most often gets Alec nearly killed, so this new mature Jace is a nice surprise. He should buy Biscuit a fruit basket.

Alec, who still looks like he’s been freshly kissed, gives Jace a ludicrously happy smile for someone whose life is in danger. His eyes keep darting to Magnus like he can’t quite believe he’s there, so Magnus squeezes his hand. 

“Where are we at?” Jace asks, assuming the ingrained ‘at ease’ stance all Shadowhunters seem to favor.

“We think,” Alec starts, and turns to Magnus with a raised eyebrow.

“We know,” Magnus corrects, “that my father is behind all this. As I locked him back in Edom after my two years of literal hell, the only way he could be doing this is through his demonic influence over someone - in other words, possession. Much like Lilith did. I think this person is calling up the demons and setting them loose on people. And given how I left our little talk this morning, he’s going to be coming for Alec sooner rather than later.” 

“Do we know who’s doing this?”

Magnus shakes his head. “It could be anyone. But my father would choose someone either close to me, or close to Alec. For maximum effect.”

Jace frowns. “If I’ve been possessed again…”

“You haven’t,” Alec says firmly. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to murder me and haven’t taken them.”

Magnus waggles his head. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe my father was waiting for us to cross paths before he instructed whoever to attack you again. For maximum pain.”

“I didn’t think meeting the parents was ever going to be this risky,” Alec says under his breath and Magnus gives him a smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. Your parents once tried to kill me, and I’ve survived dinner with them.” 

“Hey. What’s going on?” Izzy strides up to join them, Clary not far behind. Izzy immediately clocks how close Magnus and Alec are standing and glares at Magnus. He smiles at her beatifically.

“We think Asmodeus is possessing someone to carry out these attacks and he’s going to target me sometime soon,” Alec tells her flatly, ignoring her expression. “He was behind the attack outside the Hunters Moon. I just didn’t know he was also behind these Downworld murders.” 

Izzy visibly bristles. “And you didn’t tell your siblings this why?” 

Alec raises his eyebrows as if the answer is obvious. “Because it could have harmed Magnus.”

Izzy stares at him, her mouth thinning. “Alec. That put everyone, including us, in danger. We need to know things like that.”

He hangs his head, breathing in before finally nodding. “I know Iz. And I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“Yeah, you weren’t thinking clearly. I’ve been aware of that for a while.”

Magnus is mildly alarmed by Izzy’s tone, let alone her words, looking back and forth between them. “While I’d suggest you two work this out in your usual Lightwood ways of disturbingly attractive pouts and then hugging, we have to focus on catching this person.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Jace interjects, folding his arms, clearly wanting to break the tension.

“I’m going to try to lure them out somehow.” Alec’s voice is strong and sure and Magnus wants to both kiss him to shut him up from airing that stupid idea and kiss him because… he’s Alec. He’s eminently kissable.

“You taking yourself off patrols might have been the thing saving your life,” Clary says, tapping her finger against her mouth in thought. “It’s harder to attack you here and make it look random.”

“She’s got a point,” Magnus says. “You aren’t going anywhere without me from now on.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “I can’t very well continue as the Head of the Institute if I have my - need Warlock protection all the time.” He covers his slip up well, but Magnus knows everyone hears that they haven’t really discussed what they are, officially, to each other yet.

“Well maybe your Warlock boyfriend would feel better if he knew you were safe,” he tells Alec, and the hope and adoration that rises in Alec’s face makes him want to grab Alec and take him back to his room so he can show him exactly how much he means it.

“Wow, you’ve had a wild ride over the past couple of days,” Clary says, looking between the two of them.

“Oh please, Biscuit. You and Blondie were related for a hot second before you fell back into each other's’ arms.”

She shrugs. “Fair point. Glad you worked it out and all, but what exactly is the plan? Once we find who’s doing this.” 

Alec turns to his siblings. “We do what we did to Jace. Sorry, Jace.”

Jace doesn’t look fazed. “So we contain them using the Malachi configuration and then what, you fight them? That seems stupid.”

“No, we do the original plan,” Magnus says, catching on to what Alec means. “The synthesis spell from the Book of the White. But we’re going to need more Warlocks. And Lorenzo.”

“Why Lorenzo?” Alec asks.

“Because he’s going to have to push Asmodeus out of whoever he’s controlling while I’m in Edom.”

“No,” Alec says immediately, catching Magnus’ arm and pulling him closer. “That’s too dangerous. He could hold you there. Hell, Magnus he could kill you.” 

Magnus inhales and pats Alec’s arm. “I know, my darling. But if we don’t stop him now… he’s just going to try again. He’s never going to stop. We all know killing him on earth will just allow him to regroup eventually. The only way to get rid of him permanently is to face him in his realm. And I won’t risk your life. Forcing him out of someone – it makes demons weaker. It’s the only way I’m ever going to be able to beat him.” 

“I don’t care. I’m not going to lose you again.” Alec sets his jaw like the stubborn mule that he is, but Magnus stares him down.

“We can argue about this when we actually catch the person who wants to rip you apart and paint New York with your entrails. I’m fairly partial to that not happening.” He and Alec look at each other for a few seconds, Magnus willing him to understand that he’s not going to back down, before Alec finally relents, wrinkling his nose in annoyance.

“Fine. We’ll table that and come back to it.”

“Good,” Magnus breathes and claps his hands. “Now, how in the name of Lilith do we find this poor victim?”

“Are they a victim?” Izzy asks. “They could be willingly working with Asmodeus.”

“She has a point,” Jace agrees. “It’s not like you don’t have your enemies, Magnus. Long life means you had a lot of bridges to burn.” 

“It rules ex-Circle members out. It’s not like they would be working with a Greater Demon, right?” Clary looks at Jace for confirmation. 

“Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know, it feels like there’s an awfully large net to cast to find this person.”

Alec straightens up and calls up the map of the attacks again. 

“We need to go over every attack, relook at any witness statements. Magnus, I want you and Clary to go through a list of anyone who might have been susceptible to Asmodeus’ persuasion – anyone who dislikes you or who you might have slighted in some way.” He gestures to each person in turn.

“Izzy, I need you to look into any Downworlders who frequent the areas where the attacks happened. Take Simon if you must, they’re more likely to talk to you if you have a Downworlder with you. Jace, you and I will go through patrol reports for the nights in question. There has to be something we’ve missed.”

“I’ve apparently missed quite a lot,” Izzy says archly. Alec ignores her. He’s gone fully into commander mode and Magnus hates to admit that it turns him on a little.

“Report back in three hours, unless you have something you want to follow up on. But check in every half. Dismissed.”

Magnus doesn’t bother stifling the urge to salute and Alec breaks out of his stern Shadowhunter pose to grin at him, his eyes crinkling in a way that Magnus knows means trouble later on. Oh, that salute is going to make a wonderful reappearance in his bedroom sometime soon. 

“Clary,” Izzy says, coming to stand in front of Magnus and holding his gaze in a clear challenge. “Swap duties with me.” There’s a long silent pause before Alec speaks, his voice a clear warning to his sister to not overstep.

“Magnus. How do you feel about being interrogated by my sister?”

“Oh, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he quips, turning to Alec. Alec, who cups his face in the most intimate gesture he’s ever made in the middle of the Institute. 

“As long as you know there’s nothing she could say that would make me change my mind,” he adds, and Alec smiles at him. 

“Likewise.” He dips and brushes a kiss over Magnus mouth and Magnus sucks in a breath, stunned, his hands clutching at Alec for balance. He’s very aware of the plethora of black leather wearing youngsters who are watching them.

“You never do things by halves, brother,” Jace says, amused, by Alec’s side. “Come on. Leave your man to his doom.”

Magnus watches them go, smiling when Jace punches Alec’s arm in delight and Alec ducks his head. He doesn’t need to see his face to know that Alec’s response is a broad smile. He sighs in longing and turns back to Izzy.

“The library? Unless you actually want to take me to an interrogation room?”

She rolls her eyes. “The library is just fine.”

“I love him,” is the first thing Magnus says to break the silence when they sit down after a mute walk to the Institute Library. “You may not believe it -“

“Oh, I believe it. I’ve never really doubted it.” Izzy takes a deep breath. “Help me to understand how you can love him so much and hurt him so much at the same time.” 

Magnus frowns at her. “Are you talking about my… activities over the past few months?”

She nods. “You disappeared for two years. He had no idea where you were and it was killing him slowly – or so I thought. You breezed back into town and took to sleeping with anyone you could get your hands on. And then I understood what it was like to watch my brother die, slowly, from the inside.”

He inhales sharply. He had no idea it had been that bad for Alec. Although hadn’t he wanted it to be? If he was truly honest with himself, he’d wanted to punish Alexander. To make him jealous or to remind him of what he cast aside. His pride and his pain only managing to wound both of them. Explaining this to the idealistic Shadowhunter in front of him… 

“I was trying to hurt him,” he starts, nodding and then spreading his hands. “But I didn’t know _if_ I could still hurt him. For all I knew he’d cast me aside like the drunken Mundane I was becoming because I was nothing more than a burden to him. I wanted him to know I was doing just fine without him. Even if it was a flagrant lie. And it _was_ a lie. I was miserable every second I wasn’t with him, even while I had others in my bed.”

“I get that,” she says after a moment, and then tilts her chin defiantly. “And I get that you weren’t ok. I’m sorry for not checking in with you. But if this is an elaborate way to break his heart in retaliation I will hunt you down and rip your fingernails out one by one.”

Magnus blinks at her. “Isabelle.”

“I love my brother more than anything,” she says firmly. “The last few years, he hasn’t been my brother. Do you understand me? He’s been a ghost. A shell. And I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening again.” 

“So will I.” He leans forward and grabs her hand to let her know how serious he is. “When he left me, it… obliterated me. It made me turn for solace to my father because I felt I had no one else. No other person has ever brought me so low, not even Camille. Isabelle, I’ve forgiven him. And I hope he’s forgiven me. We still have a lot to talk about, but I’m never going to willingly hurt him again.”

She gives him a single nod after a moment and then licks her mouth, shifting in her seat. He looks at her curiously. It’s unlike Isabelle to be hesitant.

“I was the one who said Alec should take the deal. He came to me and told me, and - well, I didn’t so much say do it as I didn’t talk him out of it. I could have. I knew it was going to destroy him. But I didn’t know it was going to do the same to you.”

“How could you know?” Magnus asks wryly. “He didn’t.”

“Alec has never understood how he can mean so much to people. You might have to keep reminding him.”

“It’s what I plan to do for the rest of his life,” he promises her. “Now, shall we dig through my dirty laundry?”

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to take a while?” she asks, taking out a tablet and flexing her hands, poised and ready to type.

He sits back and makes himself comfortable, summoning a pot of tea for them both. “Because the fate of every Warlock is to gather enemies. The only thing we can do is be kind and helpful to gain enough friends to outnumber them.”

 

It’s late into the afternoon when they emerge, Magnus feeling like he needs a shower after recounting too many slights and vendettas for what seems like a short lifetime. To him. He clutches the Book of the White to his chest and watches Izzy meticulously plug the names into the system. Only a few ping as being sighted in New York in the past year. Well, it narrows the list at least. He looks up when Alec and Jace walk back in.

“Hey. Found anything?”

Izzy points to the screen. “These are worth a follow up.”

“How are you doing?” Alec asks Magnus in a low voice, pulling him aside with a side glance towards his sister.

“I’m fine. She’s just worried about you.” He puts his hand around Alec’s waist to feel the comforting solidity of him. “Anything come out of the patrol reports?” 

Alec shakes his head. “Nothing that we didn’t already know.” 

Magnus sighs. “We should go see Lorenzo. At least we can prep him for the synthesis spell while the team bring people in.”

Alec looks up. “Jace, get Clary and Simon to run down those names and if their alibis don’t check out, get them to bring them here. Anyone complains or refuses, tell them Magnus and I will visit them in person. Izzy, prep the cells, just in case.” 

Jace nods, and he and Izzy leave the Ops Center. Alec dashes off a fire message to Lorenzo and turns back to Magnus, an expectant look on his face.

“Ready to go?”

“Lorenzo might not want to help us,” Magnus tells him before they can leave. “Not when he hears I _am_ the reason Andrew died.”

Alec squeezes his hand. “Maybe. But we owe it to him to tell him what happened and why. After that, it’s up to him. No matter what, we’re doing this spell.”

Magnus looks back at the blinking screen, five dots that might be the person who wants Alec dead just so his father can break his own son to his will, and takes a deep breath, feeling a certainty settle in his stomach. “Yes, we are.”

 

It’s easy enough to portal to Lorenzo’s mansion, but Magnus stops Alec with a gentle hand before they can enter through the gate. His and Izzy’s conversation weighs heavy in his heart and he needs to speak to Alec before they start their plan in motion. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asks, alert. 

“Your sister said some things. And it occurs to me that I never apologised.”

“What for?” Alec looks flummoxed. “You did nothing wrong.” 

“I hurt you on purpose.” Alec continues to look confused before his expression clears and he looks down at his feet, clearing his throat.

“Oh. That. Them.”

“Yes, them,” Magnus echoes, and takes both of Alec’s hands. “Darling. I can’t tell you that I didn’t want to, or that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I did. I used other people to punish you and to escape the agony I felt without you.”

“You should probably apologise to them more than me.” Alec makes a self-deprecating expression with his mouth and Magnus shakes his head. He wants none of that. 

“No, Alec, you’re not listening to me. You didn’t deserve that. Do you understand me? No matter how much you hurt me, you didn’t deserve to feel like you were unimportant. Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.” 

Alec’s eyes flit over Magnus’ face like he’s searching for the meaning in his words, like there’s a trick to understanding what he’s saying. Magnus sighs.  

“Alexander.”

“What do you want me to say, Magnus? That it hurt? That every time I got a report that said you’d left with someone, or had taken them somewhere arguably more private, it didn’t feel like someone was shredding the very core of me?” Alec tries to pull his hands away but Magnus holds tight. 

“Yes! I want you to be honest with me. I want you to tell me when I cause you pain.”

“You did.” Alec inhales sharply. “But I felt it was justified. It was my actions behind it all.”

Magnus is already shaking his head by the time Alec finishes his sentence. “Angel, no. This is what I’m trying to say. You might have broken my heart. You might have made me feel like I was too much for you to bear, but that’s no excuse for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“I deserved it.” Alec is steadfast in his martyrdom and Magnus wants to shake him. He’s sure that Alec flagellated himself with every single report. The fact that a part of him wanted it… it breaks him.

“No, Alexander. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve to feel that way. That’s on me. It’s my guilt to bear. Do you hear me?”

Alec’s face does something complicated as Magnus wills him to believe him.

“I forgive you. Of course I do, Magnus.”

“And you know that there’s no one else I want more than you? Want to be with more than you?”

Alec nods. “I didn’t think you loved me any less. When we were together, I mean. I understood… no, I _accepted_ why you were doing it.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” 

He shrugs with one shoulder. “I don’t want it to matter. Does that make sense? We found each other again. That’s more than I dreamed of. I don’t want to waste time on what happened.”

“But it’s important,” Magnus presses. “It’s important to me that I apologise and not let this fester.”

Alec leans in and rests his forehead against Magnus’. “I could never resent you. I mean it when I say I forgive you.” His eyes are so kind and warm, Magnus absurdly wants to cry, to thank whatever deity blessed Alec with such a large heart.

“I love you, my darling.”

“I love you too.”

Magnus tips his face up enough to kiss Alec, winding his arms around his neck. There’s no heat to it, only love and affirmation, a promise of a life together. It’s selfish, but if he doesn’t take this moment for them, ahead of a battle that they might not win, then he can’t really see the point of fighting at all. 

“Ahem.”

Alec pulls away and turns, his arms reflexively tightening around Magnus, ready to defend against the intruder. When they both realize it’s Lorenzo, Alec pulls away from Magnus entirely, looking sheepish. Magnus scowls at Lorenzo, who just raises a solitary eyebrow at him.

“When you’ve quite finished declaring your undying love outside my home, you might want to come inside. I hear there’s people who want you dead roaming the streets, unless you’ve both forgotten.” 

Magnus rolls his eyes but he catches the corners of Lorenzo’s mouth curling up as he turns away to head down the sweeping gravel path that leads to his mansion. They follow him to his living room and sit while he hands them drinks he’s already prepared. Whoops. Magnus grimaces to himself. They’d clearly been outside for a while and the last thing he wants to do is rub Lorenzo’s nose in his own happiness.

“So what is this news you have for me? Unless it’s this,” Lorenzo gestures to the two of them. “And that could have gone without saying. In fact, don’t bother saying it now. I’m sure it’s a touching story but I doubt I’ll be in the mood to hear it for another decade or so.”

“Asmodeus is planning on killing me,” Alec cuts to the chase bluntly. “He’s behind the demon attack that killed Underhill.” 

Lorenzo’s eyes flick to Magnus and darken. His grip on his glass tightens and Magnus steels himself for the gust of rage no doubt heading his way. 

“You know this for sure?” is all he says in an even tone. 

Alec takes a breath.

“I’ve known since I got out of the infirmary.”

The glass in Lorenzo’s hand shatters and Magnus automatically reaches out to repair it as Lorenzo springs to his feet.

“Andrew is dead because of me. Not just because he was protecting me. But because Asmodeus wants me dead to hurt Magnus.” Alec doesn’t move, just looks Lorenzo straight in the eye.

“Alec, I’ve told you it’s not your fault. It’s my father’s.” Magnus sets the glass on the table and moves between Lorenzo and Alec, watching Lorenzo’s hands, crackling with magic. 

“Why did you keep this from me?” Lorenzo demands, his face filled with fury.

“Does it make you feel any different? Knowing that there was no point to his death?” Alec rises as well, grief shining in his eyes. Lorenzo twitches his fingers and a lamp to his left shatters. Magnus silently repairs that as well. 

“There was a point. He was doing what he loved. He was protecting others.” His voice is hard and Alec flinches. 

“Asmodeus left me a note. A threat to Magnus. I thought if I’d told you, he would hurt Magnus.” 

“And we wouldn’t want anything to hurt Bane, now, would we.” There’s an underlying threat in Lorenzo’s words and Magnus has had enough. 

“Both of you. Stop. Alec, stop beating yourself up. Lorenzo, this is exactly what my father wants. For us to not be united against him. For you to hurt me. Us. Underhill died because of my father. None of us can change that. But we can avenge him.”

Lorenzo turns to Magnus. “You want me to get involved in your familial squabble? What do I care if Asmodeus kills both of you. I should say good riddance and be done with you.”

Magnus holds his gaze. “You could. But Asmodeus has been murdering other people as well, and if we don’t stop him, he’ll keep hurting innocent people. I doubt Andrew would want that. He’d want to help. He’d want _you_ to help.”

Lorenzo’s face moves from anger into a tired sadness and he collapses back into his chair.

“Damn you,” he mutters, looking up at Magnus again, acceptance in his eyes. “Damn you for using him against me.”

Magnus relaxes, his hands unfurling from where they’d been ready to cast defense spells to protect Alec.

“I know,” he says. “I’m a shit. But I’m also the best chance we have at defeating my father.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a filler chapter folks, but it needed to be done. And thanks to those who said they wanted more conversation about the people Magnus was sleeping with - I extended their talk a little to hopefully satisfy! As always, I'm @alittlebriton on Twitter and you can track this on #goodfic!


	6. Six

“Do you know who it is?” Lorenzo asks, sipping his replenished drink.

“Not yet. We have a few leads.” 

“So how do you plan to deal with them?” He raises his eyebrows at Alec, but it’s Magnus who replies.

“The synthesis spell from the Book of the White. If you remember, Alec told you about it a long time ago when we were dealing with Lilith.” And you lied to his face about helping, Magnus doesn’t say, but it’s implied in his tone. Lorenzo glowers at him as Magnus hands the book over. 

“We want you to channel about twenty other Warlocks’ energies into yourself and then blast Asmodeus out of them.” 

“And what will you be doing while I do the heavy lifting?”

“I’ll be in Edom,” Magnus says simply, ignoring Lorenzo’s jibe. “Removing him from this person is going to weaken him. It might be our only chance to destroy him.” 

Lorenzo’s eyes widen. “Patricide? I didn’t think you’d go to such extremes.”

Magnus looks at Alec who looks worriedly back at him. He can tell this is sitting heavily on Alec’s shoulders. He wonders if he should be more perturbed about his own ambivalence towards the possibility of killing his own father. There’s part of him that feels like this has always been the inevitable conclusion of their relationship. There’s a more secret part of him that relishes it. 

“I’d do a lot to keep Alexander safe,” is all he says. 

“Of course. And after you discover this assailant, how exactly do you expect to trap them?” Lorenzo sounds skeptical. As well he should. It’s a fairly shaky plan, but they’ve won with less. Magnus tries to keep reminding himself of that.

Alec sips at his own drink. “I’m going to be bait.” 

“Ha!” Lorenzo barks a laugh. “You’ll need more than your Seraph blades to protect you, boy.”

“I’ve fought a Greater Demon before.” Alec bristles.

“And nearly died,” Magnus interjects. “Lorenzo is right. We need some way of defending you while you’re alone. We should cast a protection spell.”

“Three casters would be better,” Lorenzo notes and Magnus nods. “I’ll send a message to Cat.”

“What are you doing now?” Alec looks befuddled.

“Keeping you safe,” Lorenzo says, standing up and striding to one of his many portraits on the wall and lifting it back to reveal a safe. A muttered incantation and a pattern that shifts and moves too quickly for Magnus to catch opens the door and Lorenzo pulls out his spell book. 

“I have something that worked well in the Spanish Civil War,” he says, turning back to them. “It works best for a soldier who had a comrade’s life given to them as protection.” 

Magnus hears Alec inhale sharply and then the unmistakable sound of a portal opening behind him.

Cat emerges from the portal and looks at the three of them gathered there, raising her eyebrows at Magnus when she notes him standing close to Alec. Then she strides over and smacks Alec hard upside the head.

“Ow!’ he says, rubbing the spot with a startled look at her. “What the hell was that for?” 

Magnus moves to placate Cat but she shrugs him off. 

“I’ve been waiting to do that for years,” she tells Alec with a fierce look. 

“But,” he gestures between him and Magnus, “we’ve sorted everything out now.”

“Yes, but this is the first time I’ve seen you without Madzie and I can’t be teaching her that violence is a good way to deal with problems.” 

Magnus hides a smile. “Thank you for protecting my honor and Madzie’s manners,” he says. “But it’s not necessary. Alec did what he thought was needed to return my magic to me, and I’ve yelled enough at him for that.” 

“Whatever he did I know it was a dumb decision.”

“Love makes fools of us all,” Magnus replies, smiling at Alec.

“Dear god, can we do this and get on with it?” Lorenzo interrupts. “I’m very tired of this nonsense happening in my house.”

“Why am I here?” Cat asks, reaching for Magnus’ drink. “I’ve got about half an hour before I have to pick up Madzie from her friend’s house.”

“We might need you later,” Magnus tells her. “We’re casting a protection spell over Alec, and then we’ll need you to channel your magic into Lorenzo to burn Asmodeus out of someone we have yet to identify, find and trap.”

Her eyebrows nearly reach her hairline by the time he finishes.

“I feel I’ve missed a lot.”

Alec briefs her on the plan while Magnus starts to draw the necessary sigils and runes on the wooden floor of the room, pushing Lorenzo’s opulent and utterly gaudy rug to one side. Lorenzo is muttering to himself while collecting other items: candles, bundles of sage and marjoram, five hunks of amethyst and a container of salt. He looks up, squints at Alec, and summons what looks like Angelica, hesitates, and then adds Agrimony to the pile. Magnus is mildly impressed. It might be overkill. But Lorenzo is taking this very seriously. There’s a renewed grace to his movements now, and Magnus hopes fervently that this might bring him some peace and closure, a sense of purpose. 

“Right, we’ll need Alec in the center of us,” Lorenzo states, handing various things over to Magnus to place. Magnus rolls his eyes but continues his work, lighting the candles and bundles of herbs so that the room begins to fill with a sweet smoke.

“And we’re going to need something to anchor the spell to. Something portable that you can carry with you.”

“My bow,” Alec offers, but that’s met with a shake of Lorenzo’s head.

“Smaller, something you can hide.”

A thought occurs to Magnus and he steps forward towards Alec without actively telling his body to do so. It’s bewildering how much he gravitates towards Alec, like the Earth pulled closer to the Sun.

“I might have just the thing,” he says, catching Alec’s quizzical gaze. He reaches into his jacket and the inner pocket and closes his hand around the familiar rectangle of paper. It’s not something he’s been proud of, his inability to let this go. He protected it through the fires of Edom and hid it from his father’s wrath. Even at his lowest, his most desolate or angry, he hadn’t been to destroy it. In his petulant days back in New York, he kept it on him as a reminder not to trust anyone. Not to trust their word. Not to forget that he was only good for a night and not a lifetime.

It can mean something else, now.    

Alec blinks at the slip of faded red that Magnus presses into his hand and then realization floods his face and he looks back at Magnus, stepping closer to him. Distantly Magnus hears Lorenzo groan but he’s too focused on the impassioned look in Alec’s eyes. He feels a rush of love heat his chest.

“You kept it,” is all Alec says before he envelopes Magnus in his arms and kisses him fiercely. Magnus cradles his jaw and kisses him back just as ardently.

“I could never bring myself to destroy it,” he whispers against Alec’s mouth and kisses him again, parting Alec’s lips so he can taste him, winding his fingers into his hair. He wants Alec to know that he never stopped thinking about him, never stopped hoping in the deepest corners of his soul that he would find his way back to Alec. 

“Oh, take your time, it’s not like anyone’s life is on the line,” Cat says archly from behind them. They reluctantly break apart, Alec withering under Cat’s stern glare as he self-consciously steps back into the center of them.

“Sorry,” Alec mutters. Magnus feels he has nothing to apologise for.

“Hold the… whatever that is in the palm of your hand,” Lorenzo instructs.

“It’s an Omamori. For luck and protection,” Alec tells him and Lorenzo rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care. Hold it in the palm of your hand and don’t move.”

Magnus joins hands with Lorenzo and Cat and they open a connection to each other, allowing their magic to flow between them and pool together. Lorenzo begins to intone in archaic Spanish, speaking rapidly, the candles flaring higher, the bundles of herbs alighting fully on fire and the five amethysts glowing. The Omamori in Alec’s palm begins to judder. Magnus keeps his eyes on it and allows himself to think of how he and Alec first met, how Alec protected him even then, without knowing him. He pushes that protection back onto Alec, crafts it round him like a suit of armor, hammers it into place so nothing can touch him. He can feel Cat do the same and knows she’s thinking of the way Alec pulled Madzie out of the way when their magic ran wild in this very room. Alec’s always protected the things they love. It’s their turn to do the same for him. 

Lorenzo reaches the end of his incantation and in unison, the candles, herbs and stones all snuff out, while the Omamori glows brightly and then settles back down in Alec’s hand.

Lorenzo opens his eyes. “It is done,” he says with a small smile of satisfaction. “Keep that on you and you will be protected from harm, to a certain extent of course. Try not to push the limit too hard.” He drops Magnus’ and Cat’s hands.

“Now all of you can leave while I contact the best Warlocks New York has to offer and give them a chance to go up against a Prince of Hell.” He harrumphs as he sits back down and picks up a pen to begin his fire messages.    

Magnus throws some quality side-eye towards Cat about Lorenzo’s theatrics and throws open a portal for her. She grabs his hand and squeezes it to let him know she’s happy for him, and then disappears into the portal.

“What about us?” he turns to Alec. “Where shall we go? It’s late. We could just go home. Start again in the morning.” 

“Home as in…” Alec asks with a gesture and Magnus mentally kicks himself.

“My place. Spend the night with me and don’t disappear in the morning.” Alec looks abashed.  

“I woke up and you’d gone. I didn’t know if you’d.. had second thoughts, or couldn’t face me.”

Alec lets out a long breath, keeping his eyes on the floor so all Magnus can see are his absurdly long eyelashes. 

“I didn’t want to see regret in your eyes, or have you hate me again. Or worse.”

“Worse?” Magnus echoes. 

“I didn’t want you to treat me like I was another one of your flings. Walk me to the door with a distant look in your eyes and promise to call but never do.” Alec’s mouth tightens with the pain of his thought, and Magnus feels like something inside him dies, a sudden stabbing pain.

“I could never,” he swears, fierce and certain, stepping closer. “I would never treat you like that.” 

Alec is already nodding. “I know, I was just. Afraid. And that’s why I ran away. I’m sorry I didn’t stay, or leave a note.

Magnus waves his hand. “It’s in the past.”

“It was this morning,” Alec points out like the literal Nephilim he is.

“Still the past,” Magnus says firmly. “I’m so sorry, Alec. Let me make it up to you, please. Stay with me tonight.” 

Alec nods. “But I need to see my mother first. She needs to know what’s happening. And you need to go see what the others have turned up.”

“Alright.” Magnus creates another portal. “That should take you to Ouroboros. I’ll meet you back at the Institute. If you’re not back in an hour…”

“I will be,” Alec promises and leans in for a kiss. “I’ll see you there.” He steps into the portal without a backward glance. Magnus looks at Lorenzo, who is steadfastly ignoring him, rolls his eyes again for good measure, and portals himself back to the Institute.

 

When he arrives, nothing seems amiss. He wanders the halls, looking for someone he recognizes. He finds Jace and Clary deep in conversation in the Weapons Room.

“Please tell me you found something.” 

Both of them look up and he can see on their faces it’s not good news. 

“Nothing that stands out. Sorry, Magnus,” Clary says.

“We have five people waiting in the interrogation room though,” Jace adds. “And there’s a couple of Shadowhunters that have expressed… discontent with Alec and his relationship.”

“Then I have a truth spell that might work. Take me to them?”

Jace nods, and they both push passed Magnus to make their way down the stairs. When Magnus enters the room behind them, he recognizes a couple of faces. He has a sneaking suspicion he’d recognize them more if unclothed, and the unfamiliar shame that the thought brings makes him more extravagant in his gestures.

“Evening everyone. This won’t take a moment.”

“This is ludicrous,” Eric says, getting to his feet. He’s not glamouring his Warlock mark in a show of bravado or possibly just disdain for Shadowhunters, so his mane is on full display, falling in lustrous waves over his shoulders. Magnus mostly remembers him as a screamer, too clingy for a repeat performance. Something that Eric hadn’t taken with good grace. And the way he’s looking at Magnus now… he’s clearly unhappy to even be in Magnus’ presence again. 

“I don’t know why you’ve dragged us here and I certainly don’t know why _you’re_ involved, Magnus, but you can be assured I’ll be taking this up with the High Warlock.”

“Well,” Magnus says mildly, “as long as none of you are conspiring to murder the Head of the Institute, you’ll be out of here in five minutes.”

Eric and the others glare at him. Hazel scoffs and attempts to turn it into a cough. 

“Oh relax,” Magnus continues, beginning to gather power with his signature dramatic swirls, “it’s a harmless spell that will reveal any strong ill intent.” 

“I’m beginning to feel some ill intent,” Hazel snarks, his eyes taking on a green tinge and cracking her neck ominously. Why Werewolves always posture, Magnus will never know.  

“Et lux ibi est verum,” Magnus says and throws a blinding light over the room, shutting his eyes. “Verum voluntate ne reveletur.”

When he opens them again, the light fades, settling over the occupants of the room. Absolutely nothing happens. Magnus drops his arms.

“Fuck,” he says succinctly, looking at them blinking and rubbing their eyes, and then rallies, turning to Jace. “They’re good to go.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Jace says as he moves out of the way of the door and they file past him, throwing confused looks at him and murderous looks at Magnus. Clary stops the Shadowhunters and makes them hold a Seraph Blade in their palm. 

“Seriously, what the hell is going on?” the blonde girl asks Clary as she passes the test. 

“Adamas burn demons,” Clary says simply. “We’re looking for possession. And… you’re all clean.”

“No shit,” she replies. “Have you forgotten we have Runes and Wards for this kind of thing? You might all hang out with demon kind but some of us like to keep our hands clean.” 

Magnus is very tempted to curse her. Just a little. He created a great curse while irritated by a very precise and uptight Scotsman in the late 1800s, one that created small annoyances like a cutlery drawer always sticking or someone always using the last of the toilet paper and not replacing it. He could update it now so that she never managed to fully get the ichor out of her hair.  

“Back to your duties,” barks Jace instead and they scuttle away. 

Magnus smacks the wall when they disappear. “Well, that’s it,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “That was completely pointless. We’re at a dead end.”

Clary looks up sharply. “A dead end!” She points excitedly at Jace, who crinkles his forehead in confusion.  

“What?” he asks, looking down at himself as if his body will give him answers. “Me? What did I do?” 

“You died,” she says excitedly, a grin beginning to spread on her face. She looks too delighted to be saying those words, but Magnus will forgive her. It’s been a long day. 

“Yeeaah,” Jace says slowly.

“You got possessed by Lilith because you died. It made you vulnerable.”

Realization dawns on Magnus. “So maybe we should be looking for someone who died. Or almost died.” And then it hits him. He turns to Jace with wide eyes.

“That girl,” he says urgently, snapping his fingers. “What’s her name? The new, scaredy cat. Didn’t you say she nearly died?” 

“Emilia,” Jace nods, his face growing pale with horror and unfolding his arms from his chest. “We didn’t think of her because she never goes out on patrol.” 

“Which means we’re not tracking her movements,” Clary finishes.

“Where is she now?” Jace asks, already moving. Clary and Magnus follow him, running back up and sprinting to where the latest Head of Security is sitting at a bank of screens. 

“Luther,” Jace says. “We need eyes on Emilia.”

The tall, serious-looking Shadowhunter looks up at him, sees Jace’s expression and doesn’t argue. Typing in commands too fast for Magnus to follow. Various video feeds play on the screens and his eyes flicker over the images before he makes a pleased sound and hit a key to stop one of them. 

“There,” Luther says in a deep Southern accent. “She left the Institute by the East entrance about a half hour ago.” He frowns and looks at a screen showing what looks like a database.

“But she’s not scheduled for patrol and should be on Weapons duty tonight.”

“That’s it,” Magnus breathes, elated. “We’ve found her.” 

“No, we’ve lost her,” Jace points out. “Where’s Alec?” 

Magnus whips his head towards him. “He went to see Maryse.”

“Alone,” Jace sounds aghast and Magnus can’t blame him. Foolish, leaving Alexander alone.

“We need to get Izzy,” Clary says, and takes off running, whipping out her phone at the same time. Magnus blinks and Jace has done the same, calling Alec. 

“He’s not answering,” Jace shakes his head. 

“I can track him,” Magnus says. “Using you.”

Jace nods and replaces his phone in his back pocket. “Do it.” 

Magnus places both hands on Jace and seeks out the part of Jace that blurs with Alec’s soul. When he finds it, gleaming amber like a tiger’s eye in the swirl of gold that is Jace, he latches on and then casts his magic out. He gets glimpses of a couple of streets he recognizes, but it’s hard to focus with the swell of fear that overtakes him.

“He’s on West Fourth,” he says, just as Izzy and Clary rejoin them, carrying a bag with, Magnus assumes, several weapons. “Just off the park.” 

“Is he ok?” Izzy asks and Magnus shakes his head. Jace makes a strangled sound and clutches his left arm. 

“No,” Magnus says shortly and takes off running. Stupid Nephilim and their stupid wards that don’t allow him to portal from within the Institute. He doesn’t look back, trusting the others to follow. The minute he bursts out of the Institute doors he throws a portal open.

“Go through and set up the trap. Go!” he orders as the Shadowhunters pile past him into the portal, Jace looking white and still holding his arm. He steps in after him and is transported to an utterly deserted street. Jace has his blade out already and the girls are nowhere to be seen. The sounds of fighting echoes around the corner and Jace takes off towards it, Magnus close behind. When they skid round the corner, Magnus understands why he felt such fear; why Jace is in pain. 

Alec stands before him, his left arm crooked and limp at his side, resting on a long Seraph blade and gasping for breath as two Ravener demons advance on him. There’s ichor and blood and… parts across the sidewalk. He can just make out a shimmering line around Alec where the protection charm is still working – just about. Behind the demons stands Emilia, her face contorted in inhuman fury, power radiating off her like a beacon as she calls more demons to her, their bodies emerging from the shadows to converge on Alec. But Magnus barely registers that. His entire focus is on her. And the two gleaming cat eyes that stare at his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUN!!!!! So tru-fact - at one point I turned to Ravelens and said 'oh my god because Alec nearly died imagine the twist if I made HIM the perpetrator and he had no idea!' And then I got carried away with thinking how amazing that would be and what an awesome turn of the screw etc etc and then realised that someone needed to call the demons to cause Alec to nearly die and also the guilt that Alec would feel would require about six more chapters of basically therapy and forgiveness and Ravelens sort of blinked at me via chat and we both realised it was a cool idea but also a terrible one.
> 
> Thus poor Emilia is the patsy. I kinda feel this could be a let down because she's like, the only new character in this fic so I feel it was super obvious, but also, really, the person it is so isn't important to this journey. The Big Bad is coming up next....
> 
> I also couldn't weave it in organically but hells yeah Izzy and Clary are Parabatai in this fic. 
> 
> As always, hit me up on Twitter or Tumblr or Dreamwidth at @alittlebriton and tag #goodfic !


	7. Seven

“Stop this,” Magnus shouts, throwing a bolt of magic at the nearest demon to Alec and frying it to a crisp. Jace rushes to Alec’s side and cuts the other demon in two, hurriedly reaching for his stele to activate Alec’s Iratze. Emilia cocks her head to one side and looks at Magnus like she’s trying to place him, and then smiles, slow and wide.

“Oh,” she says, “you’re the one he wants by his side.” 

“He can have me.” Magnus swallows. “Just leave Alec alone.” 

“Tch,” Emilia shakes her head. “You know I can’t do that. As long as he’s alive you’ll be tied to this realm. You’ll never fully belong to the King of Hell.” 

He advances on her, his hands open to show he’s not summoning his magic. He can hear Jace and Alec fighting the rest of the demons behind him and he tries not to wince every time he hears a cry of pain, trusting in Jace and his magic to keep Alec safe.

“He wasn’t pleased to find your magic blocking my efforts,” she continues, remaining exactly where she is. “He should be dead a few times over by now, the number of demons I’ve thrown at him. It feels a little like cheating.” 

“Like cheating,” Magnus echoes, suddenly enraged. “My father possessed Alec’s friend and used her to murder people I knew, people I counted as friends. They had families and loved ones. And he slaughtered them.” 

Emilia begins to laugh. “Your little dalliances. He wanted to go straight for your Alexander again, after the first time. But she,” she gestures to herself, “this convenient vehicle kept deflecting. Hunted down those you’d been with and punished them, instead, just to protect your Shadowhunter. She’s a little in love with him, you know. The poor fool.” 

“I know,” Magnus nods. “When she’s free of him I will thank her for protecting Alec as best she could.”

“Oh, don’t get her wrong,” Emilia all but purrs. “She kinda liked it. Causing you pain. Ripping apart those that dared think they could replace him in your bed. She’s not pure, this one.”

“I don’t believe that,” he flatly tells her. “I think that’s my father lying. I don’t believe she enjoyed any of this.” 

She shrugs as if it’s no skin off her nose what he believes. There are sounds of skittering and wet sucking sounds behind him and he fervently prays that the girls are nearly finished.

“I think she’ll kill him herself. He’ll watch his Parabatai die, and after that, there’s really nothing left for him, is there? He always chooses Jace over you anyhow. You’d think you would have learned by now that Nephilim protect their own.”

“I will die before I let you touch him,” he vows, bringing his hands up and summoning his magic. She moves her own hands and he’s frozen in place, struggling against unseen bonds.

“No, you’ll watch. And weep, of course, but then you’ll realize. The power that Edom can give you, the power you have in your veins. It’s worth more than these mortals. You’ll thank him for it.” She grins at him and moves closer. “My dear boy,” she says, reaching her hand out to stroke his face. “There’s nothing you can do but accept your place in the world.” 

“No,” he hisses as Clary jumps down from an awning to land beside him and Emilia whirls away, bringing out her Seraph Blade to strike at Clary, crying out as the Adamas burns her hands. Metal meets metal with a resounding clang and Magnus can move again, immediately trying to strike Emilia with a blast of energy but she deflects his magic with her weapon. 

“Move,” Clary shouts. “Izzy, now!”

Magnus turns and sprints back to the Parabatai, still fighting the depleted demon horde, trusting Clary to get out of the way as well, throwing fireballs in front of him to clear his path. A shimmer of blue fills the air and a zing of magic that’s utterly alien to him, and he hears Emilia let out a bellow of rage. Jace and Alec roll over each other in a practiced move and bury their swords in the demons left standing, watching them fall to the ground and burst. 

Magnus skids to a halt by Alec’s side.

“Are you ok?” he pants and Alec nods.

“You?” Alec asks. Magnus pats Alec on the arm in response and turns to see Emilia throwing herself at the forcefield now surrounding her as Izzy saunters around the corner. 

“It should hold her for a while,” Izzy says. “But it’s Asmodeus. He might be powerful enough to break through.” 

“Then we need to do this fast,” Magnus says, summoning paper and pen and sending off a fire message to Lorenzo. After a moment he adds another one to Cat, just to be sure.

“Everyone ok?” Alec asks as they regroup. 

“We’re fine. What happened?” Clary sheaths her Kindjals.

“I was coming back from the bookshop,” Alec explains. “Met some demons. I thought Emilia was coming to help, but…” he looks over at her with a worried expression. “Is she going to be ok?”

“She should be fine,” Magnus assures him.

“Is she –“ the forcefield wavers around her and Alec puts out an arm and steps in front of the group, ready to defend them, his bow appearing in his hand.

“Aww, of course you’re going to fight for them,” she taunts, coming as close as she can. “Where were you when I needed protecting? Where was the hero of the Institute then? Crying in his bedroom over his lost love?”

“On a diplomatic mission to the Seelie Realm, actually,” Jace says under his breath. “He only cried on his days off.”

Emilia sneers. “Duty before the heart. Isn’t that right, Alec? Isn’t that why you’ll always let Magnus down?” 

“Don’t listen to her,” Alec says to Magnus, and he shakes his head.

“I know you. You include me in your duty.” He can’t help but smile up at Alec, allowing the tease to sound in his voice. “I’m your responsibility, remember?” 

“Yeah you are,” Alec breathes and then turns as a portal opens. Then another, and another, until they are surrounded by Warlocks. Lorenzo greets them with a narrow smile.

“Is this the one?” he asks gesturing towards Emilia.

“Yes. It’s not pretty. My father is speaking through her. His hold over her is complete. It’s going to take a lot of power.”

“Power is not something we are lacking.” Lorenzo pushes his sleeves up and gestures for the others to gather.

“You’re the one who found them. When I missed, and hit your lover boy.” Emilia tilts her head to coolly regard Lorenzo. “Why would you help them? They’ve never helped you. They didn’t think of you or your love. Only of themselves.” 

“Ignore her,” Magnus says firmly and Lorenzo shoots him an annoyed look.

“ _I’m_ not in the habit of believing demon lies,” he tells Magnus insufferably.

“He died for nothing,” Emilia continues, her voice rising. “He died alone, screaming and crying and wondering why you hadn’t come to save him.”

“Enough!” Alec roars. “Andrew died in an instant, knowing he was loved. You can tell your master that he won’t get the same fate.”      

Magnus pulls him back by his shirt. “Don’t listen to her. Him.”

“No, listen to the man who took countless other into his bed the moment he could. They gave him pleasure that you could only dream of. Your inexperience must plague him. Don’t you think he looks around, at others, even when you’re with him?” Emilia’s face is smug and Magnus can see Alec flinch at her words.

“It’s not true,” he says softly. “All those others… none of them could ever mean anything to me the way you do. My heart, my soul, my body – they are yours, and yours alone.”

Alec nods, drawing in a shuddering breath and he finally meets Magnus’ eyes. Magnus grasps his hand and presses a fierce kiss to his knuckles in a silent vow.   

“You better be sure about this, Bane,” Lorenzo interrupts, beginning to draw a complicated sigil on the ground and then links his hands with the others, Cat next to him. “You better not miss. When we free this Nephilim, you have to strike at your father. I won’t see Andrew’s murderer go unpunished.”

“You won’t,” Magnus promises him, and steps away, summoning the powder he needs for the pentagram into his hands. He thinks for a moment and summons one last thing from his loft, feeling the heavy weight of it slide into his jacket pocket. He may need it, one last weapon against his father.

He crouches and starts to draw the pentagram. It’s sloppy and rushed, but they don’t have time for perfection. It will hurt more, but it will do the job. 

“I’m coming with you,” comes Alec’s voice from above him. Magnus ignores him and keeps drawing, closing the circle that encompasses the five points. But Alec steps into the pentagram and he can’t ignore that, nor cast around him. He stands up and huffs.

“Alec, you can’t come with me. You’ll die.”

“It’s too dangerous for you alone,” Alec says, his jaw tight. He places one hand on Magnus arm by the crook of his elbow. “Where you go, I go.”

“Even if you could, my father will kill you. He might even kill me,” Magnus is aware he’s pleading now, but Alec is immovable. 

“I know.” And then he smiles like he can’t help it, and lowers his hand until he’s holding Magnus’ palm in his own. Magnus looks down as he slides a ring off one of Magnus’ fingers, and then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring of his own. Magnus frowns at it. When Alec slides it on his finger, he can finally see it for what it is: the Lightwood family ring. He jerks his head up to look at Alec, his mouth agape. This can’t mean what he thinks this means.

“It’s a promise. The only way I’m being parted from you again is through death,” Alec tells him breathlessly, his eyes brimming with the unasked question. “I’m not letting the man I want to spend the rest of my life with face this alone. Or thinking I don’t love him more than -” 

Magnus steps forward and captures Alec’s mouth with his, trying to pour all the love and desire and gratitude he has for Alexander into it. He aches with it, burns as he grasps Alec’s body and pulls him flush to him, entwining them so he can’t tell where he stops and Alexander begins. 

“Is that a yes?” Alec murmurs against his lips and Magnus can’t stop the smile from forming.

“Yes. Of course it’s a yes.”

Alec smiles crookedly at him and then bites his lip. Magnus gives in and presses another kiss to his enticing mouth.

“I was going to… before.”

“The dinner,” Magnus says softly. 

Alec shifts his weight between his feet. “Is it… are you happy with it? Do you want a different engagement ring?”

“No,” Magnus says immediately, pulling his hand to his chest and cradling it. “Do you have any idea what this means? Not just to me, but to the Downworld. To see a Nephilim family ring on the finger of a Downworlder… it’s astonishing. You’re astonishing.” He pulls Alec back to him, pushing his fingers in his thick hair as he kisses him.

“But,” he says as he finally forces himself to break away, “I have to go. I have to keep you safe. And you can’t come with me.” 

“Like hell,” Alec says, tightening his hold on Magnus. “We’ll use the Alliance Rune.”

Magnus pauses. “The what?”

“A rune I created,” Clary joins them, popping up beside Alec, gingerly avoiding the lines of the encircled pentagram. “I’d apologise for eavesdropping but we’re literally standing right next to you. And I guess congratulations!”

“Oh, Biscuit.” He’d genuinely forgotten they were there. He waves away her congratulations. If they survive, they can have a party then. “What does it do?”

“It binds you together. You’ll share your demonic energy with Alec and he’ll share his Nephilim grace.” She pulls out her stele and starts to draw on Alec’s hand. 

“Will it hurt him?” Magnus asks with alarm. 

“No,” she says cheerfully. “It will wear off after a while as well.”

Jace snorts from behind her as he joins them, clapping Alec on the back in what Magnus assumes is what passes for congratulations among straight men. Well. Straight-ish men.

“A long while,” he complains. Clary shoots him a look from under her eyelashes as she moves on to Magnus’ hand. It burns and he grimaces but doesn’t pull away.    

“You’re just annoyed because you said nice things to Simon,” she sing-songs, finishing the rune with a flourish. “We all liked it when you couldn’t lie.” Jace makes a face at her and Magnus watches them, bewildered. 

“I’ll fill you in,” Alec promises him, grinning at his expression. “Oh, wow.” He raises his hand and Magnus watches in amazement as blue magic swirls from his fingers. 

“Raziel, you’re much more powerful than Lorenzo.”

He raises one eyebrow, confused. He wants to be smug about this to Lorenzo, but resists, mostly because he has no idea what Alec is talking about.

“We don’t have time for comparisons, as flattering they may be. Will this be enough to keep Alec safe in Edom?” he asks Clary.

“It should do.” Clary isn’t her completely enthusiastic self and Magnus looks at her with a glare.

“It’s all I can promise,” she says with an apologetic shrug. 

“I’ll be fine,” Alec assures him, joining him next to the circle. “Are you ready?”

“No,” he says honestly. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?” He looks up at the crowd of Warlocks and sees that most of their glamours have fallen. 

“Lorenzo?” he calls. 

“Hurry,” Lorenzo shouts back. “We’re almost done here and there won’t be a lot of time. She’s powerful.”

Magnus ignites the powder and takes Alec’s hand.

“We should be coming with you,” Jace says, but Alec shakes his head.

“I need you to protect them. All of them.” He jerks his chin towards the circle of Warlocks and Emilia, still enraged in her prison, beyond them. “Get her home safely.”

Magnus takes a breath, and they both walk into the flames. It burns them, fire licking at their skin without burning their clothes, Alec crying out in surprise. Magnus tightens his grip on his hand. “Don’t let go,” he shouts. “Whatever happens. Don’t let go of me.”

The entrance to the demonic dimension opens, and they fall through.

 

Magnus staggers to his feet, and looks around for Alec. “Alexander?” he cries and hears an answering moan. He stumbles over to an outcropping of rocks and peers around them. His fiancé is propped against one and cradling his hand to his chest protectively.

“Landed on rocks,” Alec explains, looking up. “And I don’t think my Iratze is going to work.” 

Magnus kneels down and lets his magic ripple across Alec’s hand as he takes it in his own and then kisses it.

“You can use my magic to heal yourself, here. Let me show you.” He holds out his palm and pulls his magic into it. “Now you do the same.”

Alec dutifully puts out his hand and frowns, concentrating. A small ripple of blue appears in his palm and Magnus smiles delightedly.

“Excellent. How does it feel?”

“Like it’s me,” Alec says simply. “Like it’s mine and it wants to work for me. But… it’s also you.” 

He looks up at Magnus.

“It feels like it loves me.”

“And it wants to heal you, if you ask it to. Concentrate on your body, wherever it hurts. Let your magic flow over it and believe it’s healing you. Knitting bones, repairing skin. Imagine yourself whole and well and let it obey.” 

Alec watches Magnus as he speaks, his eyes wide and pupils dilated, and brings his magic up to his broken hand. It seeps into his skin and Alec lets out a small gasp of air as he flexes his fingers, stretching them from where they had been curled, blue sparking off them until it’s gone.

“Always a fast learner,” Magnus says and kisses his forehead. “Come on. If we linger any longer my father will know we’re here.”

They get up and slowly make their way towards the keep, Alec hefting his Seraph blade in his hand, always one step ahead of Magnus. Still trying to protect him. Wraiths circle overhead but appear to be confused by the duality of Magnus’ magic coursing through both him and Alexander. Lilith’s tower still stands in smoking ruins to their right.

“I never asked,” Alec says. “What happened to Lilith?”

“We banished her to another dimension and she was torn apart by the beings there,” Magnus says. “I’m sure she’ll reappear eventually. Unfortunately that’s not an option for us if we want to deal with Asmodeus permanently. He has to die in his realm.”

There’s silence for a few steps. 

“Remind me to always take out the trash when you ask,” Alec finally says. “I’d hate to get on your bad side." 

“Making terrible husband jokes already?” Magnus asks, a small smile creeping across his face.

Alec sighs. “It’s just. Your power, Magnus. It’s grown. You gained power from this place – from your father. And now we’re on our way to fight him and I just. Don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want you - after your step-father, I don’t want this to be… I don’t want you to do this if you don’t have to.”

“Listen to me,” Magnus says firmly, rounding on Alec and stopping him in his tracks. “I will never let any harm come to you. I will banish all ills, heal all wounds and challenge Death himself when he comes for you. Do you understand me?” 

Alec nods warily.

“And,” Magnus continues, before there’s a whooshing sound. A portal opens behind Alec, and he’s sucked into its vortex, leaving Magnus alone, his arm outstretched, blinking at the suddenness of it all. 

“Alec,” he breathes out like he’s been punched in the gut. “Alec!” He looks around with wild eyes and focuses on the Keep. There’s a distant, choked-off scream and his blood becomes ice in his veins. The ground beneath him begins to shake and Magnus can’t tell if it’s due to them beginning to force Asmodeus out of Emilia or due to this realm responding to his own anger.

Either way, it makes his father’s time here limited.

He throws open a portal and steps through into what passes for his father’s living room. 

“Alexander?!” he yells, looking around. He hears Asmodeus’ low laugh from the next chamber and a sharp crack, then a stifled moan and an outright sob.

He rushes to the doorway and stops. “Father,” he says. “I would take it as a kindness if you would let my fiancé go.”

“Why would I do that? I’ve been wanting something for that wall space for years. He fits quite well.” Asmodeus gestures to where Alec is held by invisible bonds against the wall, the fingers of his right hand bent in unnatural ways.

Magnus takes one step forward and his father makes a gesture and another of Alec’s fingers snaps back, making him howl.

“If you want to see him suffer, by all means continue,” his father says with a snide smile. 

“Magnus,” Alec gasps. “Leave. It’s ok. Don’t let him hurt you.”

“Why are heroes always so self-sacrificing?” Asmodeus muses, stepping towards Alec and brushing his hair out of his face. Alec jerks back and smacks his head against the wall. Asmodeus tsks him under his breath.

“And always so stupid.”

“Let him go.” Magnus pulls his magic into his hands and lets his father see the sparks of red that run through it; how angry he is.

“You might think you can kill me here in my domain, but you forget this realm gives me power,” Asmodeus’ eyes change into the familiar cat eyes Magnus sees every day and suddenly Magnus is pressed against the wall, so close to Alec he could reach out and touch his hand. If he could move, that is.

“I have no wish to hurt you, son. I’ll kill your Nephilim lover, of course, but I’d never risk a hair on your head.”

“Please,” Magnus says, looking at Alec who is staring at him with eyes half glazed from pain. “I love him. All of me, _including my magic_ , loves him.” There’s a spark of realization in Alec’s gaze when he gets what Magnus is trying to say and Magnus risks looking down to see Alec’s hands beginning to glow with healing magic. 

Asmodeus’ gaze follows the same path.

“Oh, very cute. Is that how you got him into my realm then? By sharing your power? Your pure, royal power tainted with Angel blood? Oh, Magnus,” Asmodeus slowly makes his way until he’s in front of Magnus, shaking his head. “How could you have sunk so low?” 

“You seem to hate Nephilim an awful lot for someone who’s using one,” Magnus spits, struggling against his bonds. 

“Ah yes, little Emilia. I was waiting for someone close to your Shadowhunter to come along. And then I found her – so perfect, so lost and alone, just a sliver of time before I knew you’d leave me.” Asmodeus turns his focus on Alec, stepping closer to him, placing one hand around his throat. Alec begins to gasp for air.

“Tell me, did it hurt you to have to kill her? She had so much trust in you, you know. She thought you were going to save her when her life’s blood was spilling out onto the sidewalk. How disappointed she was to learn that it was I who saved her life. And then how she fought me. How she struggled to not hurt you. I kept telling her, she was only killing other innocents.” 

“You’re a monster,” Alec chokes out, tears running down his face. Asmodeus grins and presses harder on his throat.

“Yes,” he shrugs. Magnus’ focus is pulled from Alec to the ground shuddering and cracking underneath his father’s feet. The air changes direction and Magnus realizes that the spell above is working. They have to make their move now or Asmodeus will regain enough power to defeat them.

“What makes you think we killed her?” Magnus asks softly, trying to distract his father. Asmodeus turns his head to face him, his eyes widening.

“Killing her preserves your power. But expelling your influence from her, however…” Asmodeus looks blank for a moment and then drops his arm, looking down and around him as the entire realm is racked with tremors. Alec gasps for breath and Magnus falls to the ground.

“No!” cries Asmodeus. “You couldn’t. Not without my own power!”

“You forget what it means to have friends,” Magnus hisses with contempt, pushing himself back up and advancing on him. Asmodeus darts backwards and then shouts in pain and fury, his body shuddering and falling to the ground. He holds himself up on shaking arms. The spell is complete. 

Magnus immediately kicks him, spinning him to land in a crumpled heap on the ground, further away from Alec. He holds two fingers in front of him and drags Asmodeus upright by magic, letting it cross-cross in bonds down the length of his body, suspended in front of Magnus.

“I’m sorry father, but it’s over. You lost.” Magnus steels himself, bringing a shard of magic into his hand, ready to strike.

Asmodeus raises his head and looks at Magnus. 

“I might be weaker but I’m still a Prince of Hell.” He smiles, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He snaps his fingers and dripping black demons burst up from the earth in some perversion of a birth. They make their grotesque way towards Alec.  

“Think of fire,” shouts Magnus, releasing his hold on Asmodeus to throw his magic at the demons in a desperate attempt to keep Alec safe, hoping his words are enough instruction for Alec to fight on his own. “Bring it into your hand and unleash it towards them.” 

He turns back to his father, who shoves him to the ground without moving more than his wrist. He rolls back up and throws a bolt of energy at Asmodeus, who staggers with the force of it, but keeps advancing. They begin to circle each other, both hurling magic at each other that meets and rebounds, scorching the ground in front of each of them

“I could give you everything you want, you know. I could give you your boy, forever. Think about that. Him, immortal, by your side. You by mine. We could have the whole demonic realm at our feet.”

“Alec would never want to rule over Hell.” 

“What makes you think I’d let him share our rule, my son? I’d put him in command of our armies and let him do what he does best: fight other people’s battles.” Asmodeus’ smile is cruel and taunting.

“He’s better than that,” Magnus says, furious, moving towards his father.

“Really?” Asmodeus arches his brow and gives Magnus a knowing look. “He was born to be in command. You’ve sensed that. And like most Angel-kind, he has great capacity for cruelty. You know that. You’ve experienced it first-hand.”

Magnus pushes the memory of being strapped into that chair, being forced to relive his mother’s death, out of his mind to concentrate on batting his father’s demons away from Alec as they prowl towards him. Alec’s managed to free his hands enough to send another, smaller fireball at a Wraith demon circling above.

“Alec has too much mercy in him. He’d never want to lord over anything in the same way you do.” Magnus shakes his head and takes another step forward.

“You think he has mercy. You think he’s kind, and so in love with you. But he still left you, didn’t he? If we kept him here, he could never leave you again.” 

Magnus stumbles over his own feet and drops his hands to his side, shocked.

“What?” 

“Think about it. It’s what you want, after all. To keep him. To be _sure_. And this way you could.” His father’s voice drips with desire, making it pool in Magnus’ stomach. It’s all he ever wanted. He looks over at Alec, who sends another, weaker, fireball towards the demons that keep springing up and advancing. He could keep Alec safe, forever. No harm would come to him and Magnus won’t be left alone, with only his memories to keep him warm. With only echoes of the man he loved surrounding him. He could keep Alec alive. 

“Magnus!” Alec shouts as Magnus stops fighting his father. The unfamiliar magic in Alec’s hands splutters and fizzes as he struggles to wield it. “Whatever he’s offering, don’t listen to him.”

“Good god, Bane, what are you doing?” comes Lorenzo’s furious voice as he, Clary, Jace and Izzy fall out of a portal into the keep. Asmodeus whirls around at their sudden appearance, his eyes flashing with wrath. He flicks his hands and more black figures crawl out of the earth in front of the group. 

“Get to Alec,” Magnus shouts, shaken out of his reverie and re-focusing on his father. The clang of Seraph blades and the crack of Izzy’s whip ring out as they fight their way towards Alec. 

“Father,” he growls. “We’re done talking about this. I’m done with you.” He flicks out a red hot line of magic and wraps it round his father, pulling him closer, binding his hands so he can’t use them. His father screams in anger, his teeth becoming sharp points as he clenches them. 

“You dare to challenge me?”

“I dare to stop you. Once and for all.” Magnus is panting with the effort as he grips the back of his father’s neck to hold him in place. His father is strong, stronger than Magnus had bargained for, even with the loss of the power he gave to Emilia. Magnus raises his hand and pulls everything he has, including strength from Edom into his palm, ready to burn his father away.

“You’re not going to kill me, your only family, for a mortal _boy_ are you?” Even in defeat Asmodeus’ sneer is cruel and taunting. “Think of the power I can give you. Think of the rule we can share.”

Magnus studies him. “You’re right,” he says at last, hears Izzy shout ‘No!’ behind him as he steps back a fraction to loosen his hold round Asmodeus’ throat. He slides his hand inside his pocket and grasps the item he summoned before he journeyed to Edom. He feels his father relax in his grip.

“I’m not going to kill you for Alec. I’m going to do it for her. For _me_.” And he thrusts the Keris that his mother used between his father’s ribs into his shriveled black heart, channeling magic through the metal to burn away at what passes for his soul.

“To be rid of you. Goodbye, father.”

Asmodeus coughs once, his eyes wide in surprise as he chokes on his own blood, fingers feebly grappling at Magnus’ lapels for a long, hideous moment, before falling limply at his side. Magnus lowers his father’s body to the ground as the sounds of the Shadowhunters fighting behind him slowly quieten as they win, the demons weakening as his father’s power fades. He knows he should feel something, something sad, perhaps, but mostly he feels relief. Relief that his father can’t ever tempt him again. Relief he won’t ever be able to hurt anyone Magnus loves. Relief that every time he looks at his face in the mirror, he’ll only see himself and not someone he hates. 

He’s sure grief will come, late in the night. For now, it’s enough to feel gratitude that it’s over.

Magnus kneels to close his father’s eyes when a tremor runs underneath him. He reaches out a hand to steady himself, and the tremor becomes worse. Cracks appear in the walls and a candelabra falls to the ground. Someone shouts his name in the distance, but he’s rooted to the floor, his fingers digging into the sandy dirt. It’s pulling him. He takes a deep breath and follows the pull.

The world explodes around him into screaming colour. His body ignites and he howls, throwing his head back, his glamour dropping. A shimmer falls over him and protects him, shielding him from the people running towards him. Another tremor shakes Edom and sends the Shadowhunters sprawling. The field around him bursts into flame. Sparks are singeing his clothing but the fire doesn’t hurt. Instead, he feels it almost healing him, sinking into his skin and piercing his bones. There’s a potent rush of sovereignty, of privilege, as the realm accepts him. Accepts his rule, the last gift his father could bestow on him, his brutal legacy.     

He can feel it all, the power of Edom flowing through him, can feel his connection to the barren dirt and the demons that crouch in the caves and ravines, howling their hunger. He can feel himself in the heavy flap of the circling Wraith’s wings, in the sputter of the candles that light the ruin of the castle. He’s eternal and cruel, immortal and merciful. He’s in control of every living thing around him and it’s a heady delight, permeating into his blood. He could do so much, reinvent this world, make it a new Eden. He could hunt down the evil that walks between dimensions and on the earth and rid the universe of anyone who dares disturb the balance. He could keep Alec forever by his side, ensure he could never push Magnus away again. There’s so much now, ready and waiting at his fingertips. So much _potential_.

He rises to his feet and rakes his eyes over his companions and shatters the field separating them, aware of a distant thought telling him how insignificant they are. How like ants. Even Lorenzo, who has more power than most, with his yellow magic flickering over his outstretched fingers, means nothing to him now. His gold eyes gleam in the diffuse light, the power of Edom crying out in his veins to _take_ and _break_ and _destroy_ , and watches as they all take a step back.

All except Alec.

Alec, who steps forward instead of back, and offers a hand. “Magnus,” he says, “let’s go home.” 

Home. The word echoes in his mind, calling up images of Alec nestled on gold sheets, the laughter of him and Madzie as they bake, the reassuring thud of Alec’s boots as he comes home for the day. Home. It gets louder as his eyes focus on this man, this mortal boy who has seen too much and yet is still fresh to the world. It joins the thumps of his heart, pulls him towards a different plane, where there is sweet air and light, and where his power only helps others.

Home is not here in this desolate place. Home is the man in front of him who offers such faith in Magnus, such utter trust that Magnus would never do anything to hurt him again. Such absolute conviction that Magnus is a good man. That he’s someone Alec can offer his hand to. Offer a home to. Offer himself to. 

Magnus comes back to himself, his magic receding inward until he is grounded once again, aware of who he really is.

“Yes,” he says, stepping forward to take Alec’s hand, warm and dry in his own, their magic reconnecting and binding their hands in a strong blue flame. “We’ll go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so, so hope you all enjoyed the culmination of this story! I really wanted to show Magnus taking back agency in this and for me, it felt right, so I hope it satisfies you guys too. I would love, LOVE to know what your favourite part was and if you liked the proposal and how much do we feel for poor Emilia - please, please do leave a comment or hit me up on Twitter on @alittlebriton and use the tag #goodfic!
> 
> There will be an epilogue posted TOMORROW for your edification and closure - I'm so excited to have you guys read the end of what turned out to be six weeks of blood, sweat and literal tears.


	8. Epilogue: One Month Later

It’s been, Magnus thinks, a very lovely wedding. He’d helped the bride with her make-up, making her look impeccable and then of course Alec had to go and give a heart-warming speech about how he’d come to love and cherish Clary like a sister and she’d burst into tears and ruined it all. He can’t blame Alec though, not really. Not when he’d seen how happy Clary was, surrounded by her new family.

He’s waiting for Alec by the door, listening to the low sound of laughter and music from the celebrations, when a quick movement catches his eye. Dressed in the traditional gold and black of Nephilim at these occasions, Emilia darts forward and presses a kiss to Magnus’ cheek before he can react. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for your mercy. I can never tell you –“

“Sshhh,” he gently says, hovering his finger over her mouth. She flinches, cowering, and looks at him from under her eyelashes, her shoulders relaxing when nothing terrible happens. The expectance of violence is something that never fails to shock him about Shadowhunters.

“You did nothing to harm me, or anyone I cared about. You did nothing except be a victim yourself.”

“I hurt so many people,” she says, her eyes dropping to the floor as they brim with tears. “I was going to kill _him_.”

His heart breaks for her. To be forced against your will to maim and kill – to be driven to attack someone you loved, even if it could never be... it’s almost unthinkable.  

“I forgive you for any wrong you think you’ve done, I promise. As does Alec. He only thought of your safety and never once of any actions committed with your hands. Clary told me the first thing he said when he got free of my father was ‘Is she ok?’. He’s never not going to protect the people under his care.” 

“I let him down.” Her tears spill over her cheeks as she shakes and Magnus grips both of her arms gently.

“No, Emilia. In fact, he thinks he failed _you_.”

She shakes her head vehemently and sobs. “I know,” Magnus continues, “I think he takes on too much as well. If you want to make him smile, the best way you can do that is to do your best to protect those in New York, as I’m sure you do.” He gently tips her face up so she looks at him.

“Now go be with your people and heal.”

She nods and kisses him softly on the cheek again before whipping away, passing Alec as she does. He looks after her, bemused. 

“Anything I should know?”

Magnus shakes his head. 

“I wouldn’t let her apologise. She looks better, at least.” 

Alec sighs. “It’s going to be a long road for her. But Izzy’s working with her.”

“There’s really nothing to forgive her for.”

“I know that. It might be a while before she does.” 

Magnus makes a small noise in contemplation. “Does she have faith?”

“Magnus, we’re descended from angels.” Alec’s tone is just on the right side of annoying.

He waves his hand as if that couldn’t matter less. “I was just thinking. Perhaps she could speak to Raphael.”

Alec stiffens as he always does when Raphael is mentioned. He’s never quite gotten over his loathing, even when Raphael became mortal.

“He knows more than anyone about the power of forgiveness. Of forgiving yourself.” Magnus looks at Alec, blinking innocently and Alec sighs.

“Don’t make this about me.” 

“Whoever said that was about you? Perhaps it was about me.” 

“Magnus, I’ve already told you. I know what you’re like. I hated it, but I’d never change you.” 

“Then it’s a good thing I wouldn’t change your noble self-sacrificing ways either, isn’t it?” Magnus holds his gaze with pointedly raised eyebrows until Alec sighs and then breaks into a rueful grin.

“Yeah yeah, ok. I get it. Lessons learned for both of us.”

“Good,” Magnus says and pulls Alec in by the lapels to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “You ready to go?”

“Raziel, yes. I saw my mother leaving the dancefloor with a gleam in her eye and Luke in tow and I do _not_ want to stumble across them anytime soon.”  Alec turns, giving the Institute one last look and stills, his hand in Magnus’.

Magnus follows Alec’s gaze towards where Lorenzo is standing, happily chatting to Jia, and it sparks a memory. He turns to Alec, finally lets his curiosity get the better of him. “So how did you know I’m more powerful than Lorenzo? I mean, I _am_ , obviously, but how could you tell?” 

Alec frowns, clearly pulled away from sadder thoughts about Underhill. “When we went up against Jonathan and the Seelie Queen, I was joined with Lorenzo. I used his magic in the battle.” He shrugs like that’s normal. What a truly-fucked up life they all lead.

“Ergh,” Magnus wrinkles his nose. “I feel very unhappy about him getting any of your firsts. Although I suppose you could make a case that you saved the best for last. Worked your way up to it, as it were. Started small so you could take something a lot bigger.” Alec rolls his eyes at Magnus’ flagrant innuendo.

“Good thing you’re not the jealous type, then. Besides, as you always told me, magical sharing is just a social construct anyway.” Alec manages to keep a straight face for a couple of seconds as Magnus gapes at him and then bursts into laughter, throwing his head back.

“Your face! Oh, Raziel. That I need to text Jace about, his honeymoon be damned.” 

Magnus glowers at him. But Alec is still laughing, wonderful and free, when Magnus makes the portal to take them home.

 

The loft – the old loft, as Magnus now silently terms it – is blessedly quiet when they get back. Magnus finds himself smiling as he steps into the hallway: it’s wonderful to be able to call it their home again. Lorenzo had insisted on giving it back to Magnus upon their return from Edom.

“It would be nice to see love within its walls again,” Lorenzo had said, conjuring the key and handing it over to Alec. “And I think this is what Andrew would have wanted me to do. Turn any sad memories into a new future.”

Magnus had respected him then, in that moment. Less so when Lorenzo made Magnus heft every item that belonged to Lorenzo back to his mansion by hand, claiming the things were too precious to be exposed to magic. But then again, the loving way Lorenzo had traced some of the ornaments had made Magnus realize they weren’t just _things_ for Lorenzo. They had been Andrew’s, and his. Theirs. And Lorenzo was finally making his peace with his death by accepting those memories into his home.

He’d held Alec tighter than usual that evening.

Now, though, he flings his jacket onto his loveseat and conjures a rich glass of red wine, walking out onto the balcony. A swirl of his hand summons another for Alec who joins him, leaning against the brick wall.

“It was a beautiful wedding.” Alec says, taking a sip. 

“Ours will be better.”

Alec laughs. “Of course it will. When the Clave finally allows it.” 

“They will,” Magnus smiles grimly, taking a large swig of wine and relishing the tang. “They know they can’t fight progress forever.” 

“They can try. I might be old and grey by the time we say our vows.”

Magnus shudders and moves closer to Alec. “I hate to think about that.” Alec is silent for a moment. 

“It was what your father promised you, wasn’t it? When you stopped to listen to him. It’s not something I’d ask for.”

“Would it be something you’d accept?” Magnus asks, finally turning to look at him, grasping his chin lightly. “If I found a way. If there was a way. Would you stay with me forever?” It would be nothing, Magnus thinks. He turned down the power of Hell for Alexander, it’s nothing to imagine he’d upend the earth to make sure Alec remained with him forever.

“Magnus, it’s impossible.” Alec is evasive, shaking his head.

“Nothing is impossible,” Magnus persists. “Alexander. Please.” 

“Do you really want it?” There’s a note of fear in Alec’s voice that Magnus wants to chase away.

“ _Yes_ ,” he hisses. “Yes, I want that. I’ve never felt love like this. I selfishly want you for as long as I draw breath.”

Alec looks at him for a long, long minute, before taking both their wine glasses and setting them down. Then he bends his head and presses the sweetest of kisses to Magnus’ mouth.

“If you find a way,” he starts, “ask me again then. Until that time, I am mortal. I will one day die. And you won’t. I accept that.” He shakes his head. “I don’t welcome it. But I want to live with you, Magnus. Not focus on not dying with you.”

Magnus can see on his face that that’s all Alec wants to say on the matter. He nods, just once.

“Alright. But I will find a way.” 

Alec laughs softly and enfolds Magnus in his arms. “Of course you will, my stubborn magical fiancé. I expect nothing less than the impossible from you.” He kisses him again and begins to loosen Magnus’ ascot, the silk tumbling from his fingers.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asks Alec, a warmth spreading through him that has little to do with the wine.

“I’m trying to take you to bed,” Alec counters.

“I could be persuaded.” Magnus tilts his head to allow Alec access to his neck, smiling when Alec grazes his teeth over his pulse point. “Did the wedding cause this romantic mood, my darling Alexander?”

“More the slow dance with you,” Alec’s voice is muffled as he drops his head to squint at the buttons of Magnus’ waistcoat. “Are these… actual pearls?”

Magnus coughs and waves Alec away, his hands deftly undoing each button smoothly. “Beauty is extravagant sometimes.” 

“Well you’re both, all the time.” 

“Compliments like that get you invited to our bedroom.”

Alec grins and leans in to kiss him again, tugging him back into the loft. “Makes a change from the living room rug,” he says against Magnus’ mouth. 

“That was one time! And thank Heaven for magic, that’s a four hundred-year-old Persian.” 

“You were not complaining at the time. If I remember,” Alec says, stumbling over the afore-mentioned rug so that Magnus has to right them both, “you were being very positive. Monosyllabic, but very affirmative.”

Magnus rolls his eyes and tugs Alec’s shirt out of his waistband, admiring the way Alec removes his tie with grace. “So smug.”

“So deserved,” Alec breathes and kisses him again, losing his balance so they fall back against the wall. Magnus goes with it, opening Alec’s shirt so he can finally get his hands on him, sliding them over warm skin.

“We have a really comfy bed, why do you keep insisting on having sex against hard surfaces – and no, don’t you dare make any comments about hardness.” Magnus pulls back to glare at Alec when he feels Alec open his mouth, but Alec’s crinkled eyes tell him it’s a lost battle. He sighs, and pushes Alec’s shirt off his shoulders, leering at his chest. 

“If you’re going to pun, do it now. While I’m distracted.”

Alec shakes his head, his eyes still sparkling. “I think you imagined everything I’d say anyway. Come here.” He tugs him back against his body and slots his thigh between Magnus’, shucking his shirt to the floor.“A comfy bed, you say Mr. Bane? Then take me to it.” He nudges his knee so that Magnus feels the hard graze of his thigh rub against Magnus’ growing hardness, and Magnus clutches at Alec, losing his breath.

“If you’d stop making my knees give out I would.”

“You told me that wasn’t a good excuse for my dancing earlier. I don’t know why you think I’d allow it as an excuse for not moving now.”

Magnus huffs an exasperated laugh and drags Alec into their room, turning to drop gracefully on the bed with a twirl. He kicks his shoes off and watches Alec pull at the laces of his own until Alec stands in front of him in only his suit trousers. It’s an arresting image: his black hair, trousers and runes making him seem paler than usual, standing out in stark contrast and making him almost glow in the light of the moon from the open window. 

Alec regards him with a fond, hungry look and Magnus is struck once again with how lucky he is, to have a man who loves him so much he’d destroy his future happiness just to make Magnus feel like himself again. To have someone who’d forgive him for pointed transgressions and pain. 

“Your face has done something weird.”

To have a man who knows how to ruin a moment.

“Oh, Alexander. You do know how to sweet-talk a man, don’t you?”

Alec laughs and steps to Magnus, his fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. “I just meant you were looking at me strangely. You don’t have to tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“I was thinking how lucky I am.”

Alec reverently opens Magnus’ cuffs and presses a kiss to the inside of each wrist, before peeling his shirt off his body, his eyes dark when they flick up to look at Magnus again.

“We’re both lucky. In so many ways. I love you so much, Magnus. It surprises me with how much it grows every day.”

Magnus blinks back the sudden sting of tears and leans up to cradle Alec’s jaw, kissing him softly, allowing it to deepen with all the things he can’t articulate, all the love he’s felt for Alec for years and years, all the love he had over centuries, just waiting for this extraordinary man to be in his life.

“Show me, Alexander. Make love to me.” Alec answers with his mouth, sucking Magnus’ lip gently before pressing full, lush kisses to his jaw and working down his neck. Magnus hums, more of a rumble in his throat, moving his hand to cup the nape of Alec’s neck as he moves downwards, lying back on his sheets. Alec kisses what feels like every inch of his exposed skin, licking into the dips between his muscles and tracing the curves of his body, flicking his tongue into his navel that tickles enough to make Magnus laugh, joyously. He drops low enough so that Magnus’ hand runs through his hair, raking his nails over his scalp and causing Alec to moan against Magnus’ belly.

Alec unbuttons his waistband and eases his zipper down, revealing the indigo silk of his underwear and Magnus raises his hips so Alec can pull his trousers off, sweeping his socks with them. Alec grins in approval of his underwear before placing his mouth over the head of Magnus’ cock and sucking it into the heat of his mouth, wetting the fabric so it begins to plaster obscenely to the length of him, outlining the ridges of his crown. The contact of the cool silk and the warmth of Alec’s tongue makes Magnus shiver, shimmying his hips to get more of it.

“Patience,” Alec murmurs, bringing his hand up to lightly squeeze Magnus’ balls before slowly pulling his underwear down, letting his cock bob freely. Magnus looks down in time to see Alec actually lick his lips before lowering his mouth down the length of his erection and Magnus groans, low and long, fisting his hand in Alec’s hair.

“Oh, angel.” He concentrates on not bucking up, refusing the urge to simply fuck up into the scorching heat of Alec’s throat. Alec circles one hand round the base of his dick and starts a shallow movement up and down his shaft, his other hand reaching up for Magnus, his fingers trailing over his jaw and lips before pressing into his mouth. Magnus gratefully takes the distraction and sucks his fingers, curling his tongue around them in a mirror of what Alec is doing to him, trying to match his rhythm. Alec hums around his cock and goes a little deeper, moving his fingers in and out of Magnus’ mouth, fucking that as well. It’s exquisite, a slow burn of arousal that clouds Magnus’ head and reduces him to sensations.

When Alec deems his fingers wet enough he withdraws his hand, making Magnus moan, gasping in air, his stomach tight with anticipation. He lifts his hips when Alec trails his fingers past his balls, widening his legs so that Alec can press spit-slick fingers to his hole. Alec dips one fingertip in and Magnus presses down, trying to get more.

“Greedy,” Alec pulls off long enough to say before licking up his length, letting his tongue curl so it cradles his dick, looking up at Magnus. Magnus looks back and the sight is enough for a bead of pre-come to slide down onto Alec’s waiting tongue. Magnus shudders as Alec laps it up and pushes his full finger inside. It burns, the spit not silky enough to really smooth the way, but a simple twist of magic and Alec’s fingers are coated in lube. Alec makes a pleased noise and promptly pushes a second finger inside Magnus, beginning to work them in and out of him as Magnus clenches and tries to pull his fingers as deep inside him as he can. 

He’s aware of the picture he’s making when he lowers his hands to hold himself open, spreading himself wider, hears Alec’s uptick of breath. His dark mop of hair moves downwards, and Magnus feels his breath puff warm on his hole before Alec’s tongue licks into him, hot and wet and insistent, delving past his fingers. Magnus groans and jerks, trying to move back onto his tongue. It’s not teasing but it’s still not enough, even when Alec stretches his fingers and flicks his tongue between them, Magnus feeling the point of it curl against his walls. Alec hums, then sucks at Magnus’ hole, spreading his fingers to make space for his mouth and tongue, tracing his rim in an echo of a filthy kiss. Alec’s other hand strokes him lightly, his thumb rubbing along the underside of his cock and just under the ridge of his crown, so perfect and so accurate in his knowledge of what pulls Magnus apart that Magnus could cry with pleasure.  

“Please,” he says, barely recognizing his own voice with how faint and needy it sounds. “Alexander, please.” 

Alec pulls out but keeps his fingers inside Magnus, still softly working him open. He bites the soft skin of Magnus’ inner thigh and makes the muscle jump under his teeth, then laps at it to sooth it. His pucker tightens round Alec’s fingers with the coolness of the air it’s now exposed to and his cock twitches again.

“You ready?” Alec asks with that rough husk that never fails to make Magnus shiver with want. He raises himself up on his elbows and sees Alec watching him with wide eyes blown dark with lust, his mouth pink and plump, wet and parted. It doesn’t matter that Magnus has seen him like that a hundred times, it doesn’t matter that he expected it. It hits him with a twist to his gut so severe that he goes dizzy with it, desire pulsing through him and making him light-headed. He’d ask to lie down except he already is. He licks at his dry mouth but doesn’t trust his vocal chords to hold out so just nods in response. Alec withdraws his fingers, making Magnus whine, and then he stands up. He hasn’t even removed his suit trousers yet, dear god. Alexander should be classified as illegal in at least 48 states.

Alec unzips his trousers and shucks himself free of his delightfully tight boxers with a graceful shimmy that Magnus knows isn’t practiced and is therefore far more seductive than Alec means it to be. He puts one knee back on the bed, still watching Magnus, idly wrapping his hand around his own cock and jacking himself off slowly. His eyes flick from Magnus’ face to his cock, standing proud and aching, down to where Magnus is still spread open with legs wide. Magnus hitches his knee up higher in a blatant invitation and grins when Alec has to close his eyes, swaying, his hand clamping down on the base of his own cock to stave off sensation.

“No fair,” Alec says hoarsely, leaning over Magnus and kissing him thoroughly, hooking Magnus’ leg over one arm and pressing him further into the mattress. Magnus sucks his own taste from Alec’s tongue and wraps his arms around him, rubbing shamelessly like a cat against Alec’s chest and trying to get more friction on his dick.

“Alec, for the love of life…” Magnus flails for the right words until Alec kisses him again and makes a shushing noise.

“Can you?” Alec asks, holding out his palm flat in front of Magnus’ face, which in turn makes Magnus frown at him until he gets what Alec wants, and blows a stream of magic over his hand that turns into lube. 

“Thank you,” Alec says automatically, so polite even when slicking up his cock that Magnus absurdly wants to laugh. Instead he settles for grabbing a pillow and shoving it under his hips, watching Alec with unglamoured eyes, taking in the way sweat is making his hair curl on his forehead and darken his chest hair, how the muscles in his forearm move as he hikes Magnus’ leg up higher and lines himself up. Magnus can feel the blunt head of Alec’s cock kiss his hole, catching on his rim, and he tries to wriggle down onto it.  

“Magnus,” Alec chides, pressing his face into his neck and then sucking on a spot just below his ear hard enough to make Magnus shiver. It’s wonderful and complete and utter torment at the same time.

“I want this to be romantic, darling, I really do, but if you don’t put your cock inside me in the next few seconds I’m going to hex you.”

He can feel Alec’s chest shake with his laughter and he bites Magnus’ jaw reproachfully.

“You’d never,” Alec murmurs before taking himself in hand and pushing into him, looking down to watch where they join. Magnus bites his lip and concentrates on opening up around the wide press of Alec’s cock as he feeds it into his body, the wonderful thick pressure of him filling him up.

“Alexander,” he says, his head thrown back. Alec runs his free hand over his exposed neck and trails his fingers over his collarbone. 

“God you feel good,” Alec breathes. “So, so good, fuck.” Magnus can feel when he’s fully sheathed inside of him and he curls his leg around Alec’s ass to hold him there, just breathing and blinking at the ceiling until his body relaxes enough to remember that it likes feeling this way. 

“You good?” Alec asks, the only sign he’s desperate to move the slight tremor in his arm, and Magnus brings his gaze back to him. Alec’s eyes are sensational this close up in the warm light of the room; gold and green warring within them as he looks at Magnus with a soft smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is matted to his forehead, so Magnus smooths it back and kisses him, arching up slightly to press his tongue past Alec’s lips in a filthy promise.

“Very good,” he says, lying back and shifting his leg to lie more comfortably over Alec’s shoulder. Alec picks up his cue beautifully, sliding back to thrust in again in a smooth shallow glide, a tease and nothing more. He’s deliberately avoiding Magnus’ prostate with this angle as he holds himself up on strong arms, and Magnus pouts at him, one hand sliding down his hips and grasping the swell of his ass, trying to draw him in deeper. Alec grins and noses over Magnus’ own in a surprisingly sweet eskimo kiss, considering he’s balls-deep in Magnus’ body, and then nearly pulls out, holding himself perfectly still. 

“Noooo,” keens Magnus and Alec breaks, laughing softly, thrusting back in properly this time, making Magnus’ leg bounce on his knee. He’s feeling the last glass of champagne he had now, laced with brandy and it’s harder for Magnus to keep track of his limbs as Alec grinds into him, making him forget words and protests and anything other than the delicious feeling of Alec, hard and hot within him. 

“I got you,” Alec whispers and Magnus lets go, surrenders to whatever Alec wants, trusts him to get them both there. Alec captures his mouth, hoists him closer and begins to drive into him in fluid strokes, rocking them both on the bed. Magnus throws out one hand to steady himself, giving Alec enough ballast to push against and it makes him stutter out a bitten off cry when the angle means Alec brushes over his prostate on every thrust.

“Magnus,” Alec says in a hushed, reverent voice and captures Magnus’ lips in a messy kiss, hitting the side of his mouth and then moving to center himself, swallowing Magnus’ moans and sucking on his tongue. Magnus tightens his grip on the back of Alec’s neck, burying his fingers in his hair, focusing all his energy into how Alec tastes, how he feels when Magnus rocks his hips in counterpoint to Alec’s thrusts, trying to meet them. Alec practically mewls into his mouth and pulls back to catch his breath. He looks almost wild, panting raggedly and licking at his swollen lip, looking intently at Magnus like he’s trying to memorise his face. Like Magnus is going to disappear. Like he can barely believe he’s there in the first place.

Magnus tilts his chin up in a silent invitation to be kissed again and Alec’s eyelashes flutter before he does, softer this time. 

“I’m here,” Magnus murmurs against his mouth. “I love you.”

“So much,” Alec says, resting his forehead against Magnus’. “So much, Magnus, I-“

“Shhhhh,” Magnus tells him and lifts up to kiss him again, licking into the sweet heat of his mouth. “I know, my darling. I know. Just love me. Keep loving me.”

Alec shudders hard, his hands twisting in the sheets, gripping them to fuck Magnus deeper, steady thrusts that flare heat low in his stomach, making sparks literally flicker across his fingertips. He’s never been able to control his magic when Alec makes love to him. It has a mind of its own, like it wants to actualize the sparks he feels dancing up his spine, like it’s their own personal set of fireworks.

No one else has ever made that happen.

“Alexander,” he moans, tilting his head back so Alec can move to press his face into Magnus’ neck, lifting a glowing hand to smooth down the planes of Alec’s back, feeling the muscles shift and move under his palm as Alec fucks him with harder thrusts and begins to tremble as he does so. Alec’s close, he can feel it. One of Alec’s hands falls to Magnus’ hip, squeezing it as if he needs reminding that Magnus is real and solid beneath him, and Alec pulls back enough to slide his hand between them, grazing his knuckles over his cock before wrapping around his length to sloppily stroke him. It’s off-rhythm and a shade too light yet perfectly, expertly draws him to the edge, the extra stimulation proving too much for his body when Alec drives into him again.

He hangs for a moment on one pure note of bliss until the tide of pleasure crashes through him and he breaks, sobbing his orgasm into the air, presses his face into Alec’s neck as he comes, pulsing between their sweat-slick bodies, clenching tight around Alec’s cock. Alec lets out an unholy groan and his whole body shakes, shifting impossibly deeper as Magnus feels him spurt hot and deep inside of him. Magnus releases out a satisfied, broken sigh and loosens his hold on Alec, his limbs falling heavily to the bed. He can’t feel either his fingers or his toes, and his stomach jumps as his cock weakly spurts out the last of his climax, slippery and already beginning to feel tacky on his skin. Everything is warm and fuzzy round the edges, like he’s gotten drunk in the bath, and he’s dimly aware he’s got a wide, stupid grin on his face as he noisily sucks in air.  

“Oh my god,” he says weakly as Alec untangles himself from Magnus, releasing his leg and patting it almost absently as he sets it down before he rolls to one side, pulling out with an unhappy noise that Magnus echoes. Magnus’ leg begins to cramp and he sends a flicker of magic to soothe the jumping muscles just as Alec gathers him in his arms and half-rolls back on top of him, smushing his face into Magnus’ collarbone with a punched-out noise of contentment. Magnus tries very hard not to laugh. Instead, he strokes Alec’s hair back from his face with still-trembling fingers, tracing the shell of his ear, smoothing over the soft skin behind it, the secret places only lovers know. Alec wrinkles his nose and hooks his ankle around Magnus’ to trap him onto the bed, although where he thinks Magnus is physically able to move to right then, only Lilith knows. 

He reaches underneath him and pulls out the pillow from under his hips and lets it fall to the floor, not even looking at the state of it, then physically pulls himself up the bed by clawing the sheets. It’s undignified but he doesn’t care. Alec makes a grumpy sound and levers himself up the bed as well, pulling pillows towards him and propping himself up then drawing Magnus to his chest. He rests there, listening to the rapid rhythm of Alec’s heart slowly calm, running his fingers idly through his chest hair, matted with sweat, and swirls his fingers to get rid of the come smeared over them both and the trails that spill from his ass to run, tickling, down his inner thigh. Alec tightens his hold around him and lets one hand fall into Magnus hair, beginning to stroke through the strands. 

“I love you,” Alec says again in a hoarse voice, so Magnus summons a glass of water and hands it to him. He drinks gratefully until it’s half gone and passes it back to Magnus, who finishes it and sends it back to the kitchen.

“And I love you,” he replies when he’s done. Magnus cuddles closer to Alec, aware that they really should both shower but Alec looks so blessedly happy, sated and stretched out and very willing to push his hands into Magnus hair and pet him, that Magnus refuses to move.

“A man could get used to this kind of treatment,” he murmurs with every intent of dozing for a while before maybe waking up again for another round. His blood is still fizzing from the orgasm and the champagne and he’s ludicrously, completely happy.

“I swear, my stamina rune is going to wear out someday soon if you plan to test it,” Alec says and presses a kiss to his temple, kicking his legs under the sheet. Magnus rubs up against Alec, nuzzling into his chest, asking him to continue with the delightful scalp massage he’s getting.

“Well, we have so much time to make up for.” But his simple observation has the opposite effect as Alec’s hands still and Magnus lets out an embarrassingly sad noise. 

“Magnus,” Alec says gravely, cradling the back of his head and tipping his face up so Magnus is forced to look at him, holding him like he’s something delicate and ephemeral. “Please don’t think like that. I wasn’t… mourning all the time we were apart, you know. I was still working, and celebrating, and thinking that you were happy somewhere with your magic.”

“But you were miserable,” Magnus counters, leaning in to the comforting heat of Alec’s body. “That almost makes it worse. And I hate that we spent so much time not loving each other.” 

Alec huffs a soft laugh and looks at Magnus with such fondness it almost feels like a physical caress.

“Did we? Think about it. I loved you with all my heart for those years and I never doubted your love for me, even when you hated me. Even though we weren’t together, we didn’t stop loving each other. I don’t think that could be possible.”

Magnus’ world tilts on its axis again as the pieces slot together, Alec’s simple truth piercing his self-recrimination and clearing it as a sunbeam clears a cloudy day. 

“I will never stop,” Magnus vows, lifting up to kiss Alec’s tempting mouth and tugging him even closer, his chest suddenly lighter than air, reeling from the love and trust Alec so freely gives him, again and again, after everything they’ve been through. Alec’s eyes glow in the light of the lamp and Magnus sees his own devotion reflected within them, feels the steadfast beat of Alec’s heart thump in echo of his own. He smiles, wide and easy, feeling happier than he can ever remember feeling before.

“My darling, I have every intention of loving you until the end of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And.. that's it!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR JOINING ME!! 
> 
> It's been an absolute pleasure reading your comments and thoughts and emojis and I cannot thank you enough. I had a blast writing this - I'm really, really happy with it and I hope you've found it just as satisfying.
> 
> As always, please do chat to me on @alittlebriton on Twitter, feel free to rec and translate and podfic, just let me know you're doing it and if you do a re-read of the whole thing now it's done, please do let me know if it all hangs together!


End file.
